


Intertwined

by BloodyWar2411



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Core Bonding, F/M, M/M, Politics, Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-05-08 11:24:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 174,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14693193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyWar2411/pseuds/BloodyWar2411
Summary: Edward Elric had one of the rarest Cores in the world, but no one could know that. Roy Mustang had one of the only Cores in the world that Ed could bond with, but he was a bastard with a god-complex. Now, because of said bastard and the military's insistence that the academy was important, they have to live together for two months.Ed had survived worse though... right?





	1. Chapter One

**Beta: alchemyfreak42**

 

 

A silky braid slid lazily over a strong shoulder to rest midway down a toned back, the golden blonde of the hair contrasting nicely against the crimson of a long, baggy coat. Equally golden eyes glanced between the many books surrounding him and the paper he was writing on. Edward Elric had always liked the heaviness of hardcover texts and the smell that accompanied rarely opened books. It made him feel safe.

A current senior in Central’s Academy for Alchemists, Edward lived far from an easy life. His father had abandoned him nearly too far back for him to remember, and his mother had fallen ill and died what seemed like an incredibly short time later. Now, normally this would have been heartbreaking but not a terrible issue. Edward could take care of himself better than most adults. No, the problem was his younger brother Alphonse. Not to say that Edward didn’t love his little brother with every fiber of his being and probably some fibers out of other people’s beings, too- Ed’s world revolved around the boy. That overflowing love didn’t change how much harder it was to support two people rather than one.

Al was one of the reasons that Ed had advanced himself so quickly. At eighteen, Edward was preparing to graduate with a college degree, probably at the top of his class. He had worked hard for it, too.

Ed had never finished high school, instead becoming a State Alchemist when he turned twelve. He had hated becoming a dog of the military, but it was necessary to put his brother through school. Besides, he had done plenty of reading on the long, lonely train rides. In his mind, that more than made up for the schooling he had missed.

He was known as the Fullmetal Alchemist, sometimes called the Alchemist of the People, but not by his choice. Most of his left leg and all of his right arm were automail, which he assumed was the reason for his first nickname. The second one came only because he rarely bowed down to his superiors.

One _might_ say he had a problem with authority.

If helping the people along with (in a roundabout way) completing his missions pissed the higher ups off then who was he to disappoint?

He had thought that maybe he would be stuck doing stupid missions forever, constantly forced back to Winry when he got into situations too dangerous for his automail, but he had been ordered to go on leave for bonding preparation.

“Bonding preparation” (at least to the military) being synonymous with “college.”

When he had taken a placement test for the academy, it put him well above the high school level, and he flew through the first three and a half years worth of school in a little under two, making sure to take spare missions over the summers so that Al could have whatever he needed. Or wanted, for that matter. Thankfully, it was much easier now that Al had gotten a full ride to Resembool’s Academy for Alchemists.

The State wasn’t about to argue over this, knowing that the faster he fully understood bonding (as though he didn’t already), the faster they would get him back. In one more semester, he would be done with it and ready to return to his old lifestyle. And by the time his contract ran out – which would have been now instead of when he was twenty if they hadn’t forced him into the Academy – Al would probably be ready to stand wholly on his own. Ed would decide what he wanted to do with his life then.

For now though, he had to focus on bonding: the reason he was still on the government’s leash and the reason he was currently pouring over so many books. Only alchemists bonded, and it was a tricky process, so all alchemists had to attend an academy for alchemists, though they didn’t actually have to study alchemy.

Ed was in Central’s Academy because the State had insisted, while Al had chosen to attend school in Resembool because that was where Winry went and, unbeknownst to her, she was his intended bonding mate. She had an Energy Steel Core so weak that she couldn’t even perform alchemy, but to bond, all she needed was to _have_ a Core.

Ed didn’t doubt that Winry would agree, but Al was just as in love with Winry as he was brilliant, and he wouldn’t risk messing anything up until he was completely sure she would agree.

Ed wasn’t jealous that his younger brother had found his intended at such a young age. He was actually very happy. After all, Al had an extremely strong Activation Steel Core, and people would want to take advantage of him for that.

There were five types of Cores, split into two groups: Energy and Activation. Activation Core types, in order of both rarity and strength, were Fire, Steel, Water, Wind, and Earth. Energy Core types, in order of both rarity and strength, were Fire, Wind, Earth, Water, and Steel.

Most people with Cores could do alchemy, though the opposite wasn’t uncommon, but people with Activation Cores had a natural affiliation for alchemy relating to their Core’s type. Their alchemic prowess in their particular field could be legendary.

Energy Cores were what Activation Cores drew off of, allowing them even more power and ability depending on how well their Cores combined. It was best, of course, if matching Cores bonded, but it wasn’t necessary. Steel bonded well with Wind and Earth; Wind with Steel and Water; Water with Wind and Earth; Earth with Steel and Water. Fire bonded well with everything.

Well, _Activation_ Fire Cores did.

Activation Fire Cores were incredibly rare- there were only four or five known ones in existence, and Energy Fire Cores were even rarer. While most Cores could bond with any Core, no matter their affinity, Energy Fire Cores had to bond with Activation Fire Cores. To prevent there being an un-bondable, Nature made sure that there were always one or two fewer Energy Fire Cores than there were Activation Fire Cores.

This gave Energy Fire Cores great sway in the world because those with Activation Fire Cores were usually fairly powerful people who would fight to have such a strong bond-mate. Even weak Energy Fire Cores were extremely valuable, which brought Ed to his current predicament.

Ed had an incredibly powerful Energy Fire Core. It was so powerful, in fact, that he could actually manifest fire as though he had an Activation Core, just not as strongly.

If people knew that, everything would change. A political battle over his bonding would break out, no doubt dragging Al down with him. To protect both himself and his brother, Ed hid his knowledge, focusing on Alchemy as a whole. He could perform alchemy without a transmutation circle, something which was nearly unheard of, and he could do it with nearly any type of alchemy.

Ed had been careful not to specialize in anything. People suspected that he had a weak Energy Steel Core and a lot of natural talent because of his relation to his brother, but there was nothing solid. Most people at his stupid school didn’t even realize that he had automail.

Not that people usually got close enough to him to tell or that he ever left his automail uncovered for people to see, but still. Two years of being studious, antisocial, and rude left people with a dull impression, dissimilating him from the famed image of the Fullmetal Alchemist and leaving them doubting the rumors they had heard when he had first arrived and breezed through nearly every course, many times without even attending the classes.

Now there were only three courses left: Advanced Construction of Transmutation Circles, Theoretical vs. Practical Transmutations, and An In-Depth Understanding of Core Bonding. Ed rarely attended his Advanced Construction class both because attendance wasn’t required and the professor was halfway to incompetent. The test dates and homework were in his syllabus, so he could afford to show up only when necessary.

The Theoretical vs. Practical Transmutations professor had a soft spot for Ed’s natural talent for the subject and only required him to come on test days; granted, they would talk for hours on the subject whenever they met outside of class. Thanks to that, Ed was probably learning more than he would have otherwise.

An In-Depth Understanding of Core Bonding required much more of his time and attention. It wasn’t as though Edward was struggling in the subject- far from it. Professor Armstrong _was_ insistent on his attendance, though. The extremely large, extremely muscular, extremely _emotional_ man wanted nothing more than to create a family environment in his classroom, and to achieve that, he was sure that all members of the “family” had to be there.

He technically had the option of taking three courses on bonding or just this one. The deal had sounded too good to be true when he’d found out, though, and he was right. Armstrong’s course had classes Monday through Friday for an hour and a half each along with a two-month period where a person with an Energy Core had to live with someone with an Activation Core, showing them a glimpse of what life might be like after bonding.

His immediate reaction had been to opt out and take the three courses. They were nothing he couldn’t handle, and the only person he could stand to live with was Al. But time had gotten away from him, and the next thing he knew he was taking the last spot in Armstrong’s class.

Ed put the finishing touches on his essay for said blonde man, knowing that it was his own fault for not signing up for the other, less strenuous classes beforehand.

A gloved hand ran lightly over the large book he had just closed, admiring the knowledge it offered. At least he would get to see what being bonded to someone might have been like though. Ed knew all of the theories on bonding, but actually being in the midst of it was a different story.

He would rather lose his other arm than bond to someone because of the power he could offer them instead of actual affection. He was already a dog for the military. He wouldn’t be a bargaining chip for some high-end politician, too.

Activation Fire Cores were well-known for being arrogant assholes, after all.

“Hey, Pipsqueak, do we have anything due for Armstrong tomorrow?”

Ed’s lips curled downwards at the comment, facial features reconstructing his usual scowl. The comments didn’t bother him nearly as much now that he had grown to a respectable 5’7, but the Devil still towered over him at 6’2”, so Ed couldn’t say much in defense.

Besides, as much as the other man liked procrastinating, he was never late. That made the question nothing more than an excuse to rile him up.

Golden eyes rose to glare at the mirthful obsidian eyes in front of him.

“Fuck off, Mustang.”

Roy Mustang’s lips curled into an egotistical smirk, intentionally letting Ed know that that reaction was exactly what he was going for and sparking pointless irritation deep within Ed’s chest.

Ever since Ed’s forced enrollment in Central’s Academy for Alchemists, Mustang had been trying to tug at his strings left and right. Unfortunately for Mustang, Ed had always lived not to get over it but to get even. After all, there had been enough shit he couldn’t do a thing about in his life. No reason to let what he _could_ affect skate by unscathed.

Too bad he could never seem to scathe Mustang.

The man had the ability to seem insufferably perfect all the damn time. He had thick black hair worn in a casually unkempt manner, giving the impression of carefree trustworthiness. Edward knew the truth though. Mustang was as manipulative as they came.

It was no surprise he was already ranked Colonel at the young age of 25. And, with the ability to play men who are fully used to the calculating dance with ease, it couldn’t have taken much effort to become the most sought after man in the school.

Aristocratic features, dark-as-night eyes, full lips and ink-black, seemingly feather soft hair were only the tip of the iceberg. He was tall with broad shoulders and a body other military men worked hard for. His long, elegant fingers were hidden beneath white gloves, a red transmutation circle helping to further focus his power standing out on the back.

Mustang usually wore his State Alchemist’s uniform proudly (as did the few other State certified alchemists in the Academy), without a crease or wrinkle to be found. He was brilliant at nearly everything. Popular, smart, strong, talented, attractive, and high-ranked, Roy Mustang got whatever he wanted. He was charming, and he _knew_ it.

Mustang had people at his beck and call throughout the school, despite the fact that all of his actual friends- none of which were alchemists- were in his unit of the military.

Yet the masses fought for his attention. Maybe because it was obvious that his dream of one day becoming Führer would come true. Maybe because he was one of the only Activation Fire Core holders in existence. Maybe because he was so mind-blowingly powerful even before coming into his Inheritance and people were desperate to be the one he decided to bond with.

Ed could nearly scoff at the last one. Mustang was a womanizer if Ed had ever seen one. Well, more of an anyone-izer. Mustang liked beautiful people, and that wasn’t restricted by gender. The day Mustang settled down and committed himself to just one person was the day Ed put on his regulation uniform and literally kissed the Führer's ass.

Ed himself didn’t think that the man was all that great, but a bitter sense of disappointment had a lot to do with his opinion. Ed first met Mustang during orientation week, and there had been a dastardly combination of the junior being smug (rightfully, considering his recent promotion) and Ed being slightly star-struck.

Ed had been excited about meeting someone with an Activation Fire Core, maybe someone who would understand a little of what he was going through; someone he could relate to. He had walked over and cleared his throat, sure to stand tall and present himself as not-a-sixteen-year-old. Mustang proceeded to look at him with a helpful smile and a silky “May I help you?” but not quickly enough to hide the calculating look.

Ed had seen it enough in his days as a military dog. Mustang would use him just as quickly as anyone else, perhaps even quicker. Ed’s features had twisted into a scowl, hopeful golden eyes turning cold, and Ed forced himself to just walk away. He thought that would be the end of their interactions.

He was, of course, wrong. Mustang, with his connections in the military, followers in the academy, and best friend at the head of the Investigations Unit, chose to personally irritate Ed on a daily basis.

The smug bastard.

“I see you’re as rude as usual. Tell me, Fullmetal, why do you dislike me so much?”

Ed frowned more fiercely at the apparent sincerity that he was sure had been carefully weighed out beforehand.

Since Ed wasn’t nearly as quick to flash his watch as he had been when he was younger, Mustang was one of the few people who both knew of and believed Ed’s status as the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Ed knew that Mustang knew because Maes Hughes wouldn’t lie to the Colonel, and the man had met Ed on multiple occasions. Not that meeting was necessary for Maes to have information on him, but it certainly helped.

“Because you’re a bastard. Do I need another reason?” Ed’s voice was naturally gruff with irritation and a practiced intimidation factor that he didn’t even think about using anymore. Mustang’s smirk widened marginally. He found Ed’s resistance to his charm amusing.

“Crass words for a kid your age.”

Two years ago, Ed would have taken that bait. Now he only gathered his papers and stood to walk away. Being ignored tended to get to Mustang. Not very much, but more than anything else.

Ed’s black-clad legs carried him towards Mustang and thereby the exit, muscle memory keeping his left leg from hitting the floor more heavily than his right. For a seemingly long moment, Ed felt the urge that he hadn’t been able to read about in any book: the urge to lean in and get as close to Mustang – as close to the flames burning brightly inside of the man – as possible.

He could feel the heat the older man was made of, knew that he could spark whatever was between them and that it would be all-consuming. He prided himself on being smart enough to ignore the seductive promises that the Colonel wasn’t even aware he was making and walk away.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Truthfully, Ed paid a lot more attention to the other students than he did his professors. He wasn’t delighted to admit that a lot of his people-watching revolved around Roy Mustang. Not like he had a large amount of control over that; Mustang was in all three of his classes by the devil’s luck alone, and he was always the center of attention. Men and women flocked to him, and professors loved to call on him. He always had the answers, too. Maybe not as in-depth as Ed would have given them, but still correct.

Ed could appreciate intelligence even in arrogant bastards like Mustang.

It likely changed from class to class, but in Armstrong’s course, Mustang was always surrounded by the same four people: Solaris Homunculi (also known as “Lust the Lascivious”), her brother Gerard (who Ed liked to call Greeling for his greedy nature), Russell Tringham (who thought Ed was all flash and no action), and Sheska (who had Ed’s love for books along with everyone else’s love for Mustang).

The Homunculi siblings were irksome at best. Tringham enjoyed taunting Ed about how professors played him up too much and insisting that there was nothing special about him. Sheska was good for the occasional conversation but usually got off topic, and the new topic usually ended up somehow being related to Mustang. They positioned themselves around the Flame Alchemist as though they were all trying to gain more access to him than anyone else, and Ed liked to think about how terrible they would be at chess.

Well, that was what he liked to do whenever he had no books and decided to attend class simultaneously, anyway.

Armstrong usually allowed him his reading days – three or four a week – after Ed’s insistence that every family had a bookworm, on the condition that Ed could properly answer any and all questions.

He could, of course.

Golden eyes roamed over his classmates, knowing that in just two weeks he would be living with one of them. Not Sheska or Tringham, obviously, but maybe Lust, Greeling or, God forbid, Mustang.

At that, Ed’s lips upturned ever so slightly. He wouldn’t be paired with any of those three, he knew. Armstrong had been _gracious_ enough to have Activation Core holders choose which Energy Core to live with, highest grades first.

When Mustang would have eleven other Energy Core holders to choose from, why in the world would he stick himself with Ed? And Ed was almost positive that Lust and Greeling would rather chew their own arms off than live with him, so there were no worries there, either.

It was much more likely that Ed would end up with Envy, another of the Homunculi siblings, or even Scar. Edward wasn’t actually sure what Scar’s real name was, but he had a bit of an unhealthy obsession with Ed and his grades weren’t terrible. Ed was seventy percent sure that Scar was who he would go home with.

Then again, it was no secret that Envy genuinely wanted to bond with Ed, making him incredibly likely to gun for the position of Ed’s partner. It was an overall ridiculous notion, since Envy had an Activation Wind Core, which Ed couldn’t work with, and it didn’t help that Envy was just plain annoying. Also, Ed liked taller guys, when men were the gender in question. He preferred women to be shorter than he was.

Misogynistic? Maybe. Ed wasn’t too concerned about it; Winry had clomped him with a wrench far too many times for him to actually think women were the weaker sex.

“Five minutes to chat! Being social is an important part of a healthy bond, and, much like sleep and food, is necessary to grow strong!”

There almost seemed to be glitter dancing behind Armstrong’s head, his bulging muscles ready to rip through his regulation military uniform at any moment. Ed was almost positive the man had taken the job to be sure that Mustang got the best instruction, as Armstrong had already confirmed that he would be rejoining the military full time once the year was up.

Ed turned his head to stare out the window, not really caring what was going on around him. Armstrong always gave them a five minute period in the middle of the class to socialize. Sometimes Scar would sit beside him, just as content with staring at Ed as Ed was with staring out the window, or one of Mustang’s cronies would find it fun to taunt him, but most of the time Ed spent it alone. Contentedly alone.

_Weren’t you listening?_

_Being social is an important part of your growth._

The words scrawled themselves elegantly in the air in front of Ed, the flames easily distracting Ed from his view of the window. The blonde offhandedly batted the fire into nothing, not bothering to turn towards its obvious source.

Mustang liked to pull these little tricks, but he rarely actually approached Ed. Not in public settings, at least. It didn’t really matter why. Ed didn’t concern himself with the whys of pointless social situations often.

_Come be social with me._

Ed glared at the words in front of him.

Was it really so hard for Mustang to accept that someone didn’t like him? Lightly clapping his hands together for show, as he was using Core Energy instead of conventional alchemy, Ed tapped his hands on his desk and sent a message back to the beloved Colonel.

From the reflection on the window, Ed watched as Mustang lightly touched the flames roughly spelling out “ _Fuck off, Mustang.”_ seemingly fascinated. Golden eyes then moved their attention to the people walking about on the sidewalk, once more unconcerned with the activity within the classroom.

Mustang didn’t bother Ed for a more than a week after that, but Ed wasn’t complaining. Even when he had to go to class after the nice, refreshing weekend, there was only light reluctance. It was one of his reading days, and only a few days beforehand he had stumbled upon the art of combining transmutation circles.

It was one thing to create them; _combining_ circles was an entirely different matter. The non-reading days had been torture; Ed had skipped more than a few meals over things less interesting than this. Today though, Ed’s attention was drawn from his book to the other members of the class.

The Colonel was absent.

Ed’s brow scrunched, trying to remember if Mustang had ever missed a day before. He was coming up empty. Everyone was entitled to a sick day or two, but it was odd that Mustang would take it, especially on such an insignificant day.

It was obvious that he couldn’t form deductions out of thin air and that thin air was what he was working with, but Ed’s mind still focused on it. Well, it bounced between combining transmutation circles and wondering what Mustang was playing at. By the end of class, Ed was more focused on his circles than anything else. His mind was lost to the information the texts offered him, and it was pure instinct that had Ed looking up when he exited the classroom.

“Maes.” Ed quickly ran his eyes over the Lieutenant Colonel, immediately on guard by the lack of a happy smile and pictures of Elicia.

The fluorescent lights glinted off Maes’ glasses as he nodded at Ed, silently requesting they speak in private. Ed pursed his lips before nodding, closing his book before leaning against the wall and waiting for the last of his classmates to vacate the classroom. Armstrong was the last to leave, and Ed watched as the hallway emptied as well, everyone scurrying to their next classes or home. As soon as they were alone, Maes started walking.

“Ed, I’ve had my suspicions for a while now, but I’ve kept quiet out of respect. You have to know that I wouldn’t question you if it weren’t absolutely necessary; someone’s life is on the line.”

He was more serious than Ed ever liked to see him, and Ed’s bangs fell into his eyes when he nodded. Maes stopped and moved extremely close to Ed, his breath hot against Ed’s ear.

“Do you have an Energy Fire Core?”

Maes quickly moved back to watch Ed’s reaction, but other than the widening of golden eyes, he was proud to say there were none. Normally, Ed would have glared and moved on, letting the other party know that the mere suggestion was stupid, but this was Maes, and Maes would never knowingly do anything that could bring harm to Ed. After a slow minute, Ed nodded.

Maes looked torn and relieved at the same time. They kept walking.

No other words were necessary, despite Ed’s burning curiosity. They had risked enough by speaking in public about something that was clearly not for common ears. They paused outside of the infirmary, Ed’s mind racing a mile a minute, and a singular nod of confirmation had Maes’ hand reaching forward to open the door, the other pushing Ed into the room before too many of the pained gasps and grunts could escape into the hallway.

Ed knew that the three doctors weren’t usually at the academy; they were trusted medics of the military. Trusted by Maes, in fact, and that meant trustworthy in general. Their attention was completely focused on the thrashing figure on the bed.

“His Inheritance.”

Only people with Activation Cores went through Inheritance, though when they would do so was unpredictable, and the stronger the Core, the more dangerous the Inheritance. Most people got someone else of the same Core type to perform the alchemy that would allow their body to better adjust to the new power of the Core.

Fire Cores though… Any non-Fire Core holder would get burned, and fast.

No one would be able to touch him, which meant no one would be able to help him. Even if there were a Fire Core holder close enough to Central’s Academy to help, they would probably rather let the younger man die. Activation Fire Core holders were naturally competitive, and Mustang was a formidable opponent _before_ coming into his Inheritance. If he made it through this process, Ed couldn’t even imagine just how much power and influence the Colonel would have.

Which was where Ed came in. If Ed could draw enough power from Mustang’s Core towards himself, the doctor could perform the alchemy and save the Colonel.

Or Ed could walk away and let him die.

Golden eyes trailed up from Mustang’s unnaturally pale, sweaty chest, noting the large burn wound on his left side and abdomen, to a no-longer controlled expression. Mustang’s mouth was twisted into a grimace and his teeth were grinding together. His eyes screwed shut while sweat drenched black hair, causing it to stick to an equally pale forehead.

If Ed saved Mustang, he would not only be extremely close to Mustang physically, his Core would recognize the power as a request. They would have a partial bond (on Ed’s side, as Activation Core holders had to be consciously aware of bonding for it to occur) that would have Ed effectively going through withdrawal afterwards. It wasn’t natural to start to bond and not complete the process. He might, in fact, experience as much pain as the Colonel was currently in.

But he wouldlive through it.

A soft breath escaped Ed’s lips as he gently sat his book down on a bedside table that had been haphazardly shoved against the wall in the medical team’s haste to stabilize Mustang. He pulled off his gloves and coat, placing them with the book before approaching his superior.

Maes watched him, concern, relief, worry, regret, and care all fighting for a spot in his eyes.

Ed’s slightly loose, sleeveless black shirt almost felt like too much with the heat that Mustang was putting off, but he didn’t dare shed more. Ed’s hand reached out, hovering slightly above the (admittedly attractive) black curls of hair on Mustang’s chest before pressing down.

Three things happened simultaneously: Mustang’s eyes and mouth flew open, a breathless gasp escaping his lips; a doctor shouted, “Stop! He’ll burn you alive!” her hand reaching forward to stop him; and Ed’s eyes momentarily fluttered shut, the pleasure from their Cores being so close rushing through his veins like hot lava.

Then Ed pulled away and held both his hands out, palms up.

“C’mon, Mustang, we don’t have all day.”

Probably having no idea what was going on but needing to feel that relief again, Mustang’s hands reached forward blindly, searching for Ed’s with the innocent want of a newborn. Ed’s hands clasped Mustang’s, and the blonde quickly pulled the older man into a sitting position, maneuvering to sit on the bed with Mustang between his legs a moment later.

He let go of his superior officer’s hands before taking them again, this time holding onto the backs and pulling the older man’s hands up to furl themselves in Ed’s hair. Well, they did that on their own, no doubt messing up his braid in the process. Despite the amazing feeling that came with being so close to Mustang’s Core, Ed frowned.

His automail leg positioned itself over Mustang’s leg, and he decided that he couldn’t pin the man any better and still give the medics access to the necessary area. Mustang pressed himself harshly against Ed, searching for more contact and trying desperately not to feel the pain of his overloading Core again.

Golden eyes looked up to meet light, intelligent brown ones, and Ed nodded as best he could against Mustang’s steel grip ( _Good God the man was fucking sleeping and still strong as hell_ ). Maes nodded as well, to the doctors though, and they immediately set to work.

Ed watched them closely, never having seen this procedure before, while trying to ignore the way Mustang was snugglingagainst the crook of his neck, practically breathing him in. The bastard was tying knots in Ed’s stomach without his consent, and not for the first time, the blonde cursed his Core.

He didn’t want to know how good it could feel to bond with someone, even the smug bastard Mustang, only to have it ripped away from him. Golden eyes traced over every line of the transmutation circle on Mustang’s chest with an intensity he didn’t feel. He wanted this to be over with already.

Then a too-bright glow filled the room, and Mustang was peaceful. His grip slackened (though he didn’t let go, and his hands were still tangled in blonde locks), his breathing evened out, the harsh lines of his face eased, and Mustang all-around stopped struggling to use the same space that Ed was currently taking up.

He was just asleep.

Ed carefully removed Mustang’s hands from his hair, baring his teeth slightly when the Colonel’s grip tightened again before doing what Ed wanted, and gently slid out from beneath the prone body. The medics immediately started making the Flame Alchemist comfortable. Maes put his hand on Ed’s shoulder in a silent ‘Thank you,’ and Ed gave a rare, genuine smile in return. After that, the pain consumed him, and Ed was out before he could hit the floor.


	2. Chapter Two

**Beta: alchemyfreak42**

 

 

 

Roy Mustang opened his eyes blearily, feeling halfway like he had been hit by a freight train and halfway like he had just finished an extremely satisfying bout of sex. Rough sex, clearly, but the warm feeling curling in his stomach definitely made the pain worth it. Problem being, he couldn’t remember courting anyone as of late.

There was the pretty blonde woman (Amanda?) from his Advanced Construction of Transmutation Circles class whom he’d taken out last week, but they hadn’t gone past a nice make-out session. Perhaps he had finally taken her to bed? But no, her kink was pulling his hair, and a headache was one of the few things he didn’t have.

Maybe he had decided to take the sexy brunette from the café down the street up on her offer to buy him drinks? That would explain why he didn’t remember the actual event, and he distinctly remembered her being a rough lover, but there was still the lack of a hangover.

Which brought him back to the freight train theory.

Normally smirking lips quirked downwards and Roy began to take in his surroundings. He was definitely in a hospital of some sort if the white walls, uncomfortable bed, and scratchy sheets were anything to go by. He didn’t recognize the exact location, but assumed he was at the academy since that was where he remembered being last. He had been on his way to An In-Depth Understanding of Core Bonding when an insurmountable amount of both power and pain had hit him, and Roy had barely held onto consciousness long enough to find a phone and call Maes.

After that… Well, who knew?

Dark eyes ceased their scrutiny of the room when they spotted an all-too familiar red cloak hanging on the wall. Roy’s eyes immediately shot to the side of the room he had yet to observe, landing on the bed a few feet away from his own almost instantly. Edward Elric was out cold and closer than he had been in almost longer than Roy could remember.

Edward was mostly hidden beneath the same type of itchy blanket that Roy was using. His body was curled into a tight ball, right hand clutching the blanket and left arm bent under his head as a make-shift pillow. Roy’s gaze lingered there, taking in the metallic gleam of the automail arm Roy had never before seen in person.

It was a sleek silver that contrasted nicely with Edward’s sun-kissed skin, making his black shirt seem even more of a hindrance than Roy usually thought it would be. Roy had known, of course, that Fullmetal had automail, but he hadn’t thought it would be so enticing. Roy wanted to know how it would feel under his fingers.

Would the juncture of metal and skin be rough, or smooth? Would there be a lot of scarring? If so, how far would it stretch? Roy had always been a curious soul; he was just able to control it better than most. Mainly because he knew that, with patience, he was sure to get what he wanted in the end.

And he wanted to run his hands over everything that was Edward Elric.

Golden blonde hair fell in messy locks around Edward’s face, not quite freed from the braid but mussed up enough to seem like someone had attempted to make it so. At first, the Colonel found it amusing that Fullmetal frowned even in his sleep. Then he noted the unnaturalness of Fullmetal’s position: the slight tremors of that partially metal body and the way his facial features were unusually tight.

Then again, they were in the infirmary. It wasn’t unlikely that Edward had gotten sick and come here in an attempt to sleep it off.

Roy’s gaze ran over Edward once more, this time more slowly and with a calculating glint. Edward Elric hated hospitals. That much information was neither hard to gather nor to confirm. Fullmetal would probably rather die at home than entrust his life to doctors. So, why was he here?

The door opened and Maes walked in, his eyes lighting up as he spotted Roy. A joyous smile immediately overtook Maes’ face.

“Roy!”

Maes had the, ‘I’m-going-to-tell-you-some-loosely-related-to-this-event-Elicia-story’ look in his eyes, and Roy was about to tell his best friend to skip the dramatics and explain what was going on when another voice rang from outside the room.

“He’s awake?”

Russell barged into the infirmary seconds later, and Roy could tell by the discreet look Maes gave him that whatever had happened, Maes was the only one that knew.

“Hey, Roy. Are you feeling alright?”

Russell was a smart, attractive young man – seventeen and already a freshman at the academy – and he had acted much like Fullmetal at first. He had looked at Roy like the Colonel was stupid for being able to play people and like they were stupid for falling for it. Not that he’d held out for long.

Once Roy had turned his attention to the blonde boy, it had taken only days until he was putty in the Flame Alchemist’s hands, and his obvious hopes of being chosen to bond with Roy were more than ironic. Russell had even gone so far as to pull strings and call in favors to make sure he could get into a class with Roy – the class on bonding.

The blonde boy seemed pretty sure Roy was going to choose to partner up with him, and truthfully, Roy hadn’t decided yet. Two months was a long time to live with someone—to allow someone to wander freely in his home.

Roy flashed Russell a charming smile with just the right amount of gratitude and a dash of reassurance; one that Fullmetal would have seen through in an instant.

“I’m fine, Russell. I just wasn’t feeling well is all.”

Roy assumed that Maes would have kept the story simple and vague, and he was proved correct as the tension left Russell’s shoulder.

“That’s good. You’re never sick, so I was worried that you’d been targeted at work or come into your Inheritance or something dangerous like that.” He chuckled lightly, as though ashamed of his own ideas, and Roy used his years of hiding behind a mask not to tense. He was certain that he hadn’t been targeted at work, but coming into his Inheritance fit the bill pretty well.

There was no need for Russell to know how close to the truth he (probably) was.

“Nothing like that. I just had a bit of a fever is all. Speaking of work though, I have something I need to speak with Maes about. Do you mind?”

Roy’s entire demeanor, ruffled white T-shirt and all, screamed apologetic, and Russell barely hesitated before nodding in affirmation.

“Sure thing. But do you think…” The blonde trailed off, and Roy waited with more patience than he actually had as the younger man’s eyes moved over to Fullmetal, “I mean, is it alright for him to be in here?”

He was trying to sound concerned, but the jealousy was evident, too. Russell didn’t like how much attention Roy paid to Edward.

“He’s asleep. If he wakes up, we’ll be sure to send him out.” Maes answered that time, his ever-caring, perpetually-loving smile in place, and it seemed to be the correct response as Russell finally gave one last nod and left the room. Roy’s eyes searched Maes’ before moving back to Fullmetal.

“I take it my Core adjusted well enough?”

The answer was obvious; Roy was alive, after all.

It was just light conversation- half to confirm his theory, half because Roy wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to ask yet. Maes walked over to the space between Edward and Roy’s beds.

“You could say that.”

Maes was pinning Roy with a hard stare, sizing him up; the Colonel sat up a bit straighter, shifting his full attention to his best friend.

“What happened?”

Roy’s question hung in the air for a few minutes, Maes’ expression unreadable. The silence sat heavily in the room, interrupted only by Edward’s light, shuddered breathing. Finally, Maes responded, tone evasive.

“I don’t want to lie to you, Roy.”

Maes displayed none of his usual playful vigor, and Roy’s lips thinned as he read between the lines, unsure how far he could push the issue.

“But you can’t tell me the truth, either.”

It wasn’t a shot in the dark. This situation had to do with Roy, so it was nothing less than loyalty that kept the information a secret. Maes had obligations to someone else not to let Roy know, and it was important enough that he was keeping quiet. Maes didn’t respond, so Roy moved on to his next question.

“Why is Fullmetal here?”

“He’s sick.”

Roy prompted Maes onward with his eyes, knowing there was more to the story.

“I went out while you were with the medics and found him. We chatted for a bit, and then he passed out on me. You know how he gets when he’s sick; if I didn’t bring him to a doctor, he’d never see one.”

It made sense, but there was something about the wording that had Roy on edge. Maes was hiding something from him, and it had to do with the blonde five feet away from him. Which meant he might be able to get the information he wanted about his Inheritance out of Edward instead.

As if hearing Roy’s manipulative thoughts, Edward’s eyes flickered open, dilating with the light. His lithe body curled in on itself seemingly out of reflex, as though he was cold, and burning onyx met brilliant gold.

“Fullmetal—”

Roy moved towards Edward, hand reaching over the space between them, but he got no farther as Edward’s eyelids slid closed once more, the younger alchemist’s breathing evening out almost instantaneously. The Colonel stared for half of a minute before realizing that no, Edward wasn’t faking. He had lost consciousness again.

“How long has he been like this?”

Roy didn’t have to look up to see Maes shrug.

“A few hours.”

The better question: How long had Fullmetal been like that before Maes stumbled upon him? Roy had been taking special care to observe Edward without interacting the past few days, trying to see if he could find a new weakness to exploit or a way to make Edward come to him without realizing he was being manipulated. Perhaps if he had kept with his usual tactics he would have seen the illness before it reached this stage.  And, whether Fullmetal liked it or not, Roy was _more_ than capable of forcing him to see a doctor.

“I’m going back to bed.”

Roy had a lot to contemplate, and there was no reason to give up a chance to grill Edward without the younger man having an easy escape route. Maes caught his drift and nodded, letting Roy know that the room was open only to the approved medical personnel with a single look.

“Alright, but before I go,” Maes reached into his pocket, and in an instant his wallet had unfolded into a dozen or so pictures of his family, the hearts fluttering around him rivaling the sparkles that seemed to perpetually surround Armstrong. “Isn’t my little Elicia just _adorable_? This is her in the beautiful blue dress that my beautiful wife made! We can’t confirm it yet, but we think she might have a Core! She’ll look so good performing alchemy, don’t you think? I can already imagine her in a State Alchemist’s uniform; she’ll be—”

Roy allowed himself to slump back onto the bed.

“Out, Maes.”

Maes only paused, intent to continue clear, and Roy gave him a hard stare.

“Now.”

Maes sighed in faux disappointment, entirely unconcerned at the abrupt dismissal.

“Okay, okay. You need your rest. I’ll show you later!”

With a wink and a smile, before Roy could tell him no (as though the word had ever stopped Maes before), the man was gone. Roy rolled onto his side, allowing himself to stare unabashedly at the young man sleeping not-so-peacefully in front of him.

When he woke again, he was alone, and Roy glanced at his watch to see that it was already eight at night. He stood, collected the rest of his uniform from the chair beside his bed, and moved to the exit. He paused by the mirror, turning his lip up at the disheveled man that sneered lightly back at him.

He didn’t mind being messy. It looked good on him, in fact, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be seen in public looking less than perfect. If one of his higher-ups saw him like this, they would question the lack of his usual professionalism, and the longer he could keep the fact that he had come into his Inheritance a secret, the better.

Having the upper hand was nice. Obtaining the upper hand without alerting others was much, much better.

Roy made his way out of the building and to his car without drawing too much attention to himself. He slipped into his car without a fuss, starting the engine and making his way home with no problems whatsoever.

Yet, as he felt the click of the key unlocking his front door, Roy was still frowning. There was no one to perform for right now, and he still had no idea what had gone down during his Inheritance.

Now that he was thinking clearly, he could feel the new power thrumming through him. It filled every pore of his body and threatened to burst out of him, practically glowing beneath his skin. It was new and familiar at the same time, making him feel like he was on top of the world.

Which was exactly what bothered him.

This was far too much power for the Inheritance process to have run smoothly. No Fire Core holder, Activation or otherwise, was anywhere near close enough to have arrived at Central in time, so how had he made it through? Was it just dumb luck?

Roy stripped himself as his thoughts continued. Light bruises were starting to appear, no doubt from people attempting to restrain him. Normally, he would applaud them simply for trying- while shaking his head for the same reason. His skin would have been hot enough to burn others (a self-defense mechanism, evolutionists believed), and only those with a Core of the same type would be able to withstand it, his or her Core taking in the excess energy he couldn’t keep to himself.

He stepped into the shower, happy to be out of the roughed-up, slept-in clothes. The hot water nearly scalded him, and Roy hummed at the pleasure of it. His thoughts wandered back to the infirmary and, as they often did, back to Edward Elric.

Had he actually gotten better or just woken up coherent enough to realize where he was and get the heck out of dodge? What if he had collapsed on the streets on his way back? It wasn’t implausible since he’d done so in front of Maes (twice) and Roy both.

Elegant hands rose to rub shampoo into soaked locks, the transmutation circle etched into the back of his hand nothing more than a pale scar.

As much as he would like to know, it was no use. If he called Maes for information on Fullmetal, the man would only whisper (so as not to wake Gracia) soothing words and tell Roy to wait to panic until Fullmetal wasn’t in class the next day.

It wasn’t that Roy was obsessed with the blonde; far from it. Edward was different from his usual pawns, and even from his friends- and Roy loved different. Edward was the puzzle that always seemed to have new pieces falling from the sky, daring Roy to collect them all.

Damn his curiosity.

Roy had only asked Maes about Fullmetal a handful of times: an initial check, once when he took an entire month longer on a mission than he was supposed to, and once to question if the man had plans to stay in the military. Everything else, Roy could find out on his own.

Edward’s class schedule, for instance, was an easy thing to swindle out of a star-struck intern’s well-manicured hands. And smooth-talking his way into said classes? Even easier. The look on the blonde’s face when he saw that Roy was in every single one of them made the small amount of effort more than worth it.

Water washed away as many of the day’s events as it could, and Roy sighed as he stepped out. Thinking about the enigma of the eldest Elric was getting him just about as far as thinking about the events of his Inheritance. He may as well do something useful with his time and read up on making transmutation circles.

He’d just _had_ to choose a genius to court, didn’t he?

**(***Intertwined***)**

When Roy saw Edward the next day, the younger man was sitting in a little nook in the back of the library as Roy hoped ( _knew_ ) he would be. He was buried in a pile of books, no doubt preparing to skip Theoretical vs. Practical Transmutations.

For a moment, Roy admired the way golden eyes zoomed intently over the words in a book Roy had probably only heard of, blonde hair falling lightly into his face only to be ignored. A perfectly clothed arm- that Roy now knew firsthand was made of sleek metal- prepared to turn a page while an equally perfect flesh arm flew across an entirely _different_ page, scrawling nearly-illegible notes. At that moment, Roy’s arrogant smirk turned into something more genuine, and the older man strolled forward.

“Fullmetal.”

Many students at the academy believed Roy was only taunting Edward with the nickname, but when expressive orbs jerked up to stare and then (rather quickly) glare at Roy, he didn’t know how they could doubt Edward’s position. The young man let other people know under no uncertain terms that he was dangerous, and the fire burning brightly behind his gaze told Roy the same thing: _Edward didn’t bluff._

He wore his heart on his sleeve and refused to back down from his beliefs. He cared about people, even strangers, and didn’t like being told what to do. He fit the bill perfectly.

“Mustang.”

The word was more terse than usual, and Roy’s smile took on a predatory edge- Edward was hiding something, too.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation. Roy pulled up a chair anyways, placing his black overcoat neatly on its back, and sat down.

Edward frowned harder.

The blonde had grown a lot since their first meeting, but he was still a firecracker ready to go off at any moment.  Roy could admit he enjoyed lighting the fuse.

“Can't you take a hint?”

Golden eyes didn’t even try to hide Edward’s irritation. Roy took his time giving Edward a once-over, ignoring the question entirely.

“Are you feeling better?”

The question seemed to take Edward off guard as he blinked, confusion overwhelming irritation, and sat up a little straighter. Fullmetal’s eyes searched Roy’s for any answers he could find, and the Colonel bit back a comment about how Edward really shouldn’t look at him like that. Otherwise, Roy wouldn’t be held responsible for his actions.

“What?”

Edward sounded just as befuddled as he looked, and Roy smirked, the need to patronize the younger man winning out over his concern. Edward wasn’t very good at hiding things, and he seemed fine, so Roy was much less worried than he’d been felt the night before.

“Articulate as always, I see. You were sick yesterday; feverish, even. I asked if you’re feeling better now. Or do you need me to clarify what feeling better entails?”

Dark eyes watched tan skin flush a brilliant shade of pink as Edward’s usual scowl turned into a snarl.

“Think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you?”

His voice darkened in anger, and Roy drank in Edward’s attention.

“You said it, not me.”

Roy’s smirk was taunting, and the rage that flashed behind golden irises didn’t escape his notice. Fullmetal had gotten better at hiding his expressions over the years – not getting unnecessarily angry in general, too – but Roy had watched him do so. Every time there was a change in how Edward acted, Roy logged it away for future use, and because of that he was just as good at reading Edward as ever. Not that the blonde could be considered _good_ at hiding his emotions, but he was certainly better than before.

“You’re an ass, Mustang.”

Fullmetal glared harshly at the older man, but when all Roy did was raise both brows, Edward moved his gaze to stare at the book on his left instead, an incredibly light blush dusting his cheeks. Roy’s expression became even more calculating, focusing wholly on Edward and his reactions.

Edward’s shoulders were tense under his signature red jacket, left hand clutching his pen tighter than usual, and his lips were drawn into a tight almost-pout.

“I’m fine now.” Golden eyes moved even farther away from Roy without looking too unnatural. “Thanks- you know, for asking.”

Edward Elric, always so sure of himself and what he did, was stumbling over his words, and he was doing it because of Roy. Dear God, Fullmetal could rile him up with five little words, and he didn’t even know it.

Roy cleared his throat.

“You’re welcome, Fullmetal.”

The Flame Alchemist would admit that his voice had turned to sin, but it was on instinct. He knew what seduced people best, and Edward being sweet and civil brought out his seducing side. Well, Maes would argue that all of his sides were seducing sides, but some were better suited for what he wanted from Edward than others.

The confusion on Edward’s face only made it sweeter. He knew that Roy’s tone had changed, and he had liked it, judging by the shiver that had run up his spine. It was clear he was neither sure why it had changed nor why Roy was being cordial in return, though.

By the way Edward’s expression darkened, Roy would say he was quickly coming (jumping) to a (wrong) conclusion.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Fullmetal slammed the book in front of him shut, not bothering to pick it up and take it with him as he stood. “Just fuck off, Mustang.”

Roy stood as well, barely managing to keep his grace about him. The irritated blonde walked – stomped, really – around the table and past Roy, not even sparing the older man a glance. Roy strode after him, his long legs having no problem matching Edward’s rapid pace, and reached out. Strong fingers curled around Edward’s flesh bicep and spun the blonde around.

Three things happened in that moment: Edward inhaled a sharp gasp, his golden eyes grew hooded and lightly glazed over, and a lithe, partially metal body leaned into Roy’s touch.

Fullmetal was fucking _swooning_.

If there was one thing that Roy knew, it was that Edward Elric didn’t swoon. Especially not over him. Obsidian eyes narrowed, taking in every aspect of Edward that they could; trying to figure out if he had been drugged or—

Fullmetal suddenly seemed to reach the same conclusion about his swooning as Roy. The younger man snapped out of his almost trance-like state and jerked out of Roy’s grasp, self-loathing burning in his eyes. There was embarrassment—no, humiliation—mixed with the fury, and Edward took a shaky step backwards.

“I said fuck _off_ , Mustang.”

Nearly whispered words seemed to help Edward steel himself, and his eyes hardened as he turned and walked away again, unwilling to allow whatever had just occurred to happen again. Roy didn’t chase after him a second time.

There was something he was missing- something big. Something large and convoluted enough to make Edward look at Roy as though his feelings were more than returned, when he knew for a fact that they weren’t.

Roy had always been a patient man. He always had a carefully planned out path in mind and was always ready to adjust it as necessary. Now his plan had to be trashed and remade. He had spent so much time luring Edward closer – pushing and pulling in all the right places – and somehow still managed to allow something incredibly important to slip past him completely unnoticed.

Well, fine then. He would create a new plan, and this one would be equipped with a catalyst.

Secrets could be kept from Roy for a while, but he always found out in the end.


	3. Chapter Three

Ed tried to avoid Mustang. He really did. But the damn man had practically hunted him down! So what if Ed had hidden in his usual spot? He didn’t think that Mustang would actually go looking for him.

The Colonel had still been asleep when Ed woke up from his partial-bond induced coma, and Maes wouldn’t say anything, so he couldn’t know about what Ed had done for him. Not that the reasoning really mattered at this point. Mustang had found him, and, of course, Ed had completely humiliated himself.

After a night of detoxing—his Core crying out for a completion of the bonding process and his body desperately trying to reconnect with the part of him that was acting out—Ed assumed he would be alright. Not many people started the bonding process without completing it, so there wasn’t much of a study on it, but he had expected it to be painful.

Ed had pushed through it though: from stumbling home to making a bath of ice water to help fight down the fever – not to mention the heat his Core was putting off – to curling up in his bed and biting into his good arm until it bled from the pain that was _just_ _barely not enough_ to make him pass out. He figured it was over when he woke up that morning, barely enough time to get to his first class and feeling lucky that none of them started until noon that day.

Sure, the pull of being around Mustang was a little stronger, but Ed didn’t think much of it. It was an understandable side effect.

When Mustang touched him though?

Ed had never felt more pleasure in his life. In that moment, he would have gladly given the Colonel anything that the man had asked for and more. He had leaned in before he could stop himself, and it wasn’t until he saw the way that Mustang was staring at him that he had snapped out of it.

Ed would rather live with this empty feeling in his chest forever than see that look on Mustang’s face again – like he was a defenseless kid who had something terribly wrong with him; like he needed saving. Yes, dark eyes had been much harsher in their assessment, more looking for what had been wrong and trying to fix it than judging his helplessness, but that was what it boiled down to. And Mustang’s ego had probably led him to believe that Ed was really just some fan-boy like all the others, decimating any respect that Mustang may have held for him.

_Not that it mattered._

Edward didn’t care, per say, what the Flame Alchemist thought of him, but he didn’t like being looked down upon, either, especially not by arrogant bastards like Mustang.

It tended to get to him more when the Colonel was the one looking down on him. He didn’t know why, and he had never cared enough to figure it out. What could he say? The black haired narcissist had never been at the top of his list of priorities.

And now he was lying face down on his bed, wondering if there was a transmutation array that could open up the Earth and swallow him whole like his embarrassment was trying to do.

It wasn’t all that important, no. It was nothing close to when he had lost his limbs or when his mother had died or when Tucker had—Ed closed his eyes more tightly than before, torn between pushing out thoughts of what had happened to Nina and honoring her memory.

He and Al had burned down their house to make sure that Ed would have nowhere to run back to when scared and, no matter Al’s protests, they both knew it had been the best choice.

Well, Ed had known. Al had still been too shell-shocked at Ed giving up his arm and leg whilst saving him from losing possibly his everything to fight the decision. The amount of options they had that wouldn’t either separate them or turn them into burdens of the Rockbell family were scarce, and, if nothing else, Al had known that. If nothing else, he wanted not to be separated from Ed.

Every chance Ed got, he was with Al, and two or three weeks away from Al a month were made up for by seeing the younger (taller) boy happy and healthy. He had plenty to do in Central while Ed was away, and he had made friends in the military base there, Maes being one of the prime examples.

Ed wouldn’t change that for the world. As many times as he had wished for the company of his little brother, Ed was happy that those bright eyes had never seen the horrors that Ed had. He knew of what Ed went through, of course, but he didn’t have to experience it firsthand. Al seeing Nina and Alexander’s chimera form was enough. He didn’t need to see what had happened to them after that.

Ed could handle that burden all on his own.

Now that Al lived in Winry’s spare room, Ed’s small military dorm seemed too large. If Al were there, Ed would rant to him, and the younger Elric would know exactly what to say. He had always been more socially adept than Ed.

Ed turned his face to the wall instead of attempting to suffocate himself in his pillow.

He hated that he was still stuck on this. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have more important things to worry about. In just three days, he would be figuring out the easiest way to live with another human being who wasn’t his brother, and Mustang would be the last thing on his mind. Ed didn’t have _time_ to be embarrassed, and that meant Mustang didn’t have time to waste thinking about how stupid Ed was, either.

With that knowledge easing his thoughts, Ed drifted to sleep, hungry transmutation circles that swallowed people whole chasing Mustang through his dreams.

When Ed woke up, he was finished with being embarrassed and went to class on time, not really caring about whatever Mustang thought or had told any of his cronies. Not caring, however, didn’t translate over to not noticing.

No one was looking at him any differently; no smug grins (they told him he would fall eventually) or condescending glares (as though he was actually competition). Had it not spread past his inner circle?

But no, Tringham looked at him with the same amount of badly hidden distaste as usual. Had Mustang not said anything?

Gold met obsidian, and a perfectly shaped, black eyebrow cocked, as though asking if Ed really thought he would share information for free when he could use it as leverage instead. Or maybe he was questioning if Ed were back to normal. If Ed were feeling alright. _Again_.

Ed returned the question, whatever it was, with a glare. Mustang was being patronizing; that much was sure. Ed didn’t wait for the trademark, irritating smirk to appear before walking to his usual spot at the back of the room. Whatever game Mustang was playing, Ed wanted no part in it.

The Colonel didn’t track him down again.

It wasn’t an unwanted change, but it put Ed on edge. If there was one thing that Ed knew, it was that Mustang didn’t know how to give up. Maybe retreating and waiting for a better time to strike, but not outright giving up. So, what was he waiting for?

Ed spent a little less than a day fretting over it. Paranoia quickly became tiring, so Ed became determined instead to bury himself in his studies. Well, that was what it started out as. After the first few pages, all thoughts of Mustang had fled from his mind and Ed was more concerned with what he was learning.

His notebook quickly filled with scattered notes and rough sketches. Ideas connected and interconnected easily, turning into messily written theories. Every once in a while he would have to flip back to previous pages and scribble notes in the margins. He carried more than a few books home with him, closing his curtains to the dying light outside and delving back into the world of words.

Ed wasn’t sure how long this went on but he eventually fell asleep, cheek pressed against a thick tome. It wasn’t until his phone rang at his bedside that Ed found consciousness again. A gloved hand clumsily patted around on the small table, trying to find the offending object.

Something hit the floor, but the phone kept ringing, so Ed assumed that he hadn’t knocked the blasted thing out of its cradle. Finally, Ed’s fingers enclosed around the smooth, white plastic, and the blonde was torn between pride at finding it without opening his eyes and irritation at being awoken.

Irritation won out.

“What?” His voice was gruff and displeased with whoever was on the other line.

There was a long pause before, “Brother? Did you just wake up?” Golden eyes cracked open. Of course he had just woken up. It was only—

“Shit! I’ll call you later, Al!”

Had he really slept that long? The phone was halfway to being hung in its cradle when Ed heard Al’s voice shouting, most likely telling him to wait. He brought the phone back up to his ear.

“Yeah?”

He moved as far as the cord would let him, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder while jerking off his clothes and finding clean ones.

“Remember to call me right after class, okay? Not tomorrow or whenever you finish your current project! I’m not going to be able to feel good about this situation until I know who, exactly, you’re going to be staying with.”

Ed paused in his one-legged hopping attempt to hurriedly pull up his pants in favor of staring numbly at the wall in front of him.

It wasn’t unusual for Ed to lose track of a few hours, even a few days, but up until this year he had been used to Al at least reminding him of meals and sleep times. He could admit that he had also put a little too much faith in his time management skills.

“Al, what day is it?” His voice sounded a little shaky, even to him, and Al’s answer was accompanied with a knowing sigh.

“The fifteenth; Brother, did you—”

A string of curses cut off Al’s question, and Ed quickly tossed out a promised call and a goodbye.

Al had probably expected to catch him rushing out the door, not sleeping. Ed started pulling on clothes faster than before, glad he didn’t have a large variety so that it was practically impossible not to match. Shoes were messily tied, and his red coat was tossed over his shoulder as he left his room. He didn’t bother to lock it behind him.

He slung on his jacket while sprinting out of the dorm, undoing and redoing his unruly braid as he tore through the town, damning his luck the entire time. Out of all the days to be late, it had to be the most important fucking day of the semester.

He slammed the door of Armstrong’s classroom open, panting not from the amount he had run but from the way he had run it. Golden eyes looked through golden bangs as Ed leaned one hand on the door and the other on his knee.

At least Armstrong knew and liked him well enough to be fine with it. He wouldn’t question the fact that Ed had just forgotten to come to class yesterday, either. That was just how Ed was. Ed straightened up, only slightly uncomfortable under all the attention he was getting, and moved his right hand from the door down to his side and his left hand from his knee up to scratch the back of his head.

“Sorry. I woke up late.”

Probably an obvious statement, but hey. It was the truth. Pink sparkles filled the air behind Armstrong, who was practically glowing as tears streamed down his face.

“Such dedication to your education! You are truly an admirable student! All is forgiven!”

The tall, overly muscled, Strong Arm Alchemist rushed forward to engulf Ed in a hug, but Ed quickly dodged out of the way, chuckling lightly under his breath at the antics. His chuckling stopped when he bumped into Scar’s desk and met the other man’s eyes (sunglasses), but Ed was swift about getting out of that situation as well, hastily moving back to his usual seat.

His eyes ran over the other occupants of the room, noting that no one was seated any differently than before, and figured that they must have been waiting for him.

“Edward Elric, just as quick on your feet as you are in your pursuit of knowledge! Well, we shan’t hold you back any longer! Let us begin!”

Armstrong showed off his perfect teeth with a grin, and Ed shot an unsure smile to his professor, wisely choosing not to point out that it was he who was making everyone else wait, not the other way around. Apparently, the others were too eager to get the process over with to comment on it, either.

“Alright, Energy Core holders to the right of the room and Activation Core holders to the left!”

Ed, who was already in the back, right corner, stayed still while everyone else resituated. The overly zealous professor continued as soon as his students’ moving ceased.

“As you know, we are trying to make this as close to a real life situation as possible, so those with the strongest Activation Cores, or in this case the highest grades, will choose an Energy Core holder first. Energy Core holders will have no choice but to go along with it. I know this may seem unfair, but if nothing else, I have taught that Energy Core holders often don’t have a choice in their intended as they cannot stop a bonding from occurring, unlike Activation Core holders. I don’t believe this should be too much of a problem, however, as we have all become great friends in these first few weeks! I’m sure that our lovely Activation Core holders will choose only the absolute closest of friends to live with!”

Ed scoffed at that. Half the Activation Core holders in the room could probably be clinically classified as sadists.

“Now, without further ado, Roy, choose your faux Intended for the next two months!”

Armstrong’s shirt ripped as he spread his arms in a show of Mustang’s newfound freedom to choose.

Mustang stood from his chair, graceful as ever, and gave a sweeping glance around the room. Tringham perked up, positive that he would be chosen, and Sheska peeked up through her banks hopefully. Ed crossed his arms over his desk and laid his head on them, not really caring who Mustang would pick. Mustang’s eyes met Ed’s, and the man offered a cocky smirk that Ed sneered back at.

“Edward Elric.”

If the class hadn’t been silent before, it was certainly silent now. Half of Ed was positive that Mustang had just chosen an extremely inappropriate time to start a conversation. The other, more realistic half knew that his fate for the next two months had been sealed. It was no wonder why Ed chose to go with the first half.

“Mustang, did you hit your head?” Surely it was one of the Colonel’s pranks. Except Mustang’s smirk only got more devious, and Ed knew it was wishful thinking. Slowly, reluctantly, knowing that there really wasn’t anything he could do about this situation, Ed rose from his seat and made his way to his superior officer.

Golden eyes closed to block out Mustang’s smug expression, but that only made him hyperaware of the older man’s Core. It was so much more powerful than it had been before coming into his Inheritance, and Ed could feel his own Core begging to reach out. Ed chose to face the daunting smirk instead.

Mustang had held out a hand for Ed to shake, probably wanting others to see how Ed reacted to him, and Ed had never been more thankful to have automail or for Mustang to be right handed. He sneered as he clasped his automail hand in Mustang’s larger, glove-covered hand, and was more than relieved that he couldn’t feel the shock of pleasure through the false appendage. Ed pulled his hand back the moment Mustang’s grip loosened, mind racing in an attempt to figure out a way to live with Mustang without actually coming in contact with him.

Despite whatever protests he or anyone else had, class went on, other people paired up, and, at the end of the day, Mustang drove Ed back to his dorm room so that he could pack.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed angrily shoved the few things he owned into a large duffel bag. The only things that weren’t clothing consisted of his toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, a few hair ties, his journals of notes, pens, pencils, and a small book of pictures Al and Winry had taken throughout the years and compiled as a birthday present. The bag was tossed over his left shoulder, and a large stack of books filled his arms.

He would call Al on Mustang’s phone so that the younger boy could get Ed’s new number. Mustang’s number. Ed stomped needlessly down the stairs and out the door, slamming it shut with his foot. Mustang had already opened the trunk, and Ed placed his things inside before shutting it only slightly less violently than the door to the dorm.

“You need help carrying the rest down?”

For once, Mustang didn’t seem condescending, and Ed found he wasn’t in the mood to deal with any side of Mustang, no matter how much nicer it was than usual. Ed narrowed his eyes in exasperation as he slid into the car.

“That’s all there is.”

Mustang stared disbelievingly in response to Ed’s claim.

“You’ll be at my place for two months. This is no time to be choosy about what to bring. Trust me, there’s plenty of room for whatever else you want.”

The Colonel had a hint of pride to go with his mountain of I-know-more-than-you covered narcissism. Ed crossed his arms over his chest and huffed, slamming himself back into his seat and staring determinedly forward.

“Not all of us have a mountain of cash at our disposal, Mustang. I cleaned out the room when I packed, and that’s it.”

Ed had never seen the need to own much. It wasn’t as though he had a stable home to put it in or even cared for very many material things. He’d probably just buy books, food and chalk with it. As is, he put whatever was left over at the end of the month in a savings account for a rainy day.

He could feel Mustang’s stare on him just as well as he could feel the shirt on his back, but the Alchemist of the People didn’t turn his attention away from the road. He had been pissed off quite enough today, thank you, and every occurrence had been at Mustang’s hands.

Mustang apparently found whatever answer he was looking for as he started the engine and drove away from the building Ed had more or less lived in for the past seven years. The ride was spent in silence, and when Mustang pulled into a large driveway next to an extravagant house, Ed wasn’t really surprised. The inside was just as fancy as the outside, but it was far homier than Ed had originally predicted. Instead of a stale, office-like (because all Mustang really cared about was work) or cold, store-like (just to show off to his flocks of sex friends and superior officers) feel, it was actually really nice.

If Ed ignored how high class it was, he might go so far as to say that it reminded him of his old home. Pictures were placed tastefully on the walls of the living room, two of Mustang with Maes and his family (one at Christmas, one on a random day at the beach), one of a party with what Ed presumed was Mustang’s unit, one of a seven or eight year old Mustang with a little blonde girl, one just of Elicia (probably at Maes’ insistence), and one of just Maes and Mustang, much younger and with dog tags. It was most likely taken while they were still recruits. Mustang snapped behind him, and Ed’s attention was drawn to a large fireplace.

“The kitchen is through there with the dining room just past it, and the bathroom is to your left; feel free to make yourself at home.”

Mustang dropped his keys in a small glass bowl on the table beside the front door and hung his sleek, black overcoat on the hook on the back of the door before making his way to the staircase.

“Your bedroom is this way.”

Ed gripped his books tighter and readjusted his duffel before following the war hero. They walked up the staircase, Mustang far more at ease than Ed, and it opened out to a hallway with three closed doors and one door-less entrance way leading to what looked like a pleasant sitting room. Mustang pointed to the door at the end of the hallway, most likely the master bedroom.

“That’s my room. You’ll have to go through there to get to the shower, so be sure to knock first.” He motioned to the room on the left of his bedroom next. “That’s the study. You can use it if you like, but try not to move anything. I’m an organized man and, in that room especially, everything is exactly where I like it to be.”

Finally, he walked over to the door between the sitting room and his bedroom, giving Ed the impression that he should follow.

“I didn’t exactly have a guest bedroom before this, so I just bought a dresser and bed for you and put them in the room I thought you would like most. Hope you don’t mind.”

Ed frowned at that, but he could hardly find it in himself to be snarky when the door opened to reveal a large library with a twin bed sitting nicely in the corner, just far away from the wall enough to be able to reach the books behind it, and a dresser a few feet away from the bed under the same conditions. Ed walked inside in near awe, barely managing to drop his things on the bed before wandering over to one of the shelves and beginning to read over the titles.

Some he had read, but some he had never heard of before, and there were even a couple that he had searched multiple libraries for but was never able to find. It was one of the latter of those categories that Ed pulled off the shelf and opened up.

A page and a half later, Ed was snapped out of his own little world by the sound of a man clearing his throat. Golden eyes snapped up, and Ed felt the heat rushing to his face. He had legitimately _forgotten_ that Mustang was there! Ed licked his lips, trying to think of some excuse to make, but nothing came to mind, and he could only offer an embarrassed grin.

“I take it you’re alright with your current arrangements? If not, I can--” Ed quickly interrupted Mustang, holding up the closed book in one hand as a silent, ‘Stop.’

“No, no, this is good!”

Yeah, it was probably more of a carefully executed move than a well-this-room-is-easiest-to-work-with type of thing, but if Ed had to live with the bastard, he may as well take full advantage of it, right? Besides, he had been searching for the book in his hand for three years; not even his pride could deprive him of reading it now.

Ed lowered his hands, not liking how easily he was playing into Mustang’s plans but unwilling to give up this room now that he knew he could have it.

“Thanks.”

It was really the _least_ Mustang could do after Ed had saved his life, but the older man wasn’t aware that Ed had done so in the first place, so he supposed this would make them even.

“My pleasure.”

Ed frowned at the smirk, knowing he had just fed the fire that was Mustang’s ego.

“I’ll be in my study if you need me.”

Mustang turned and left the room without flourish. Ed glanced at the book in his hands, reassuring himself that it would be there when he got back, before gently setting it on the bed and following the Flame Alchemist.

“Wait a second!”

Mustang paused to look back with a half-curious, half-bored expression.

Ed hurriedly continued, “Why did you pick me?”

Ed had never been one to beat around the bush, and Mustang obviously knew this as he didn’t look surprised at Ed’s abruptness.

“Who knows? Maybe I’m just really into blondes.” And then he turned and entered his study, leaving Ed to sputter in the hallway.

“But-but Tringham is—”

Mustang shut the door behind him, and Ed cursed at the Colonel for a full minute before making his way back to his new room, taking only minutes more to forget everything that had just occurred and lose himself in the pages of a book.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy hadn’t originally planned for Edward to be the one he lived with. Fullmetal was the type of guy that needed to fall slowly and then have the realization of romantic relations smack him in the face.

Roy was good at being patient. He had plenty of time to lure Fullmetal in and plenty of willing bodies (checked and clean) lined up to sate him until he was close enough to Edward to begin courting him traditionally. Being forced into a situation he didn’t want to be in would only push them farther apart.

Unless, of course, Roy played his cards right.

The more he was willing to risk, the more he could gain. There were two very good reasons he had avoided this move in the first place.

(1) Edward was an unpredictable player. As soon as Roy would feel confident that he had the blonde figured out, a whole new layer would suddenly be revealed. Or he would be sure that Edward would do something, and the man would turn around and do the exact opposite, rendering all of Roy’s careful planning null and void.

(2) At this accelerated rate, if Roy messed up, that would be it. There would be no do-overs or fix-ups. Edward wouldn’t come back to Roy. Not ever. Not in a way that could ever breed any sort of trust between them again.

But Edward was hiding something from him now, something that had to do with Roy. Something that had to do with _both_ of them. Roy couldn’t let that happen. He had to know what was going on.

It would be hitting two birds with one stone if he could find out what had happened during his Inheritance (leading to this _thing_ between them) and get Edward to fall for him at the same time. As long as Edward didn’t figure out that he had secondary intentions along with the courting, they would be fine. Edward had more than once referred to Roy as a “morally bankrupt Colonel with a God complex,” so it wasn’t out of the question to think that Edward would jump to conclusions over why Roy wanted them together.

Roy would be careful though, and everything would proceed as planned.

The Colonel sipped his coffee contentedly, enjoying the calm before the storm. Said storm proceeded to walk down the steps and enter the kitchen. Edward was pleasantly ruffled up, hair mussed from sleep and messily tossed into a high pony tail. He wore sweatpants along with a loose yet fitting sleeveless shirt. That was all.

Two feet – one tan, the other shiny – poked out from under the ends of fringed black trousers, and strong arms were bared for the world to see; one tan and toned, the other silver and covered with grooves and rivets. Roy had known that Edward was far from shy about his automail, but he never before had firsthand proof of that. Edward’s eyes met Roy’s own, and they had a stare-off before the younger of the two spoke.

“Mind if I use your phone?”

Roy shook his head in a negative motion, hand raising to wave Edward towards the phone on the wall. He took another sip if his coffee as Edward turned away from him, his gaze trailing down a strong back line to a trim waist and settling on a firm ass. Long legs shifted as Edward dialed a number on the phone, clearly not giving a damn whether Roy listened in on his conversation.

Well, if Roy was being offered free intel, he wasn’t going to turn it down.

“Hey, Al, I know I said I would—” Edward abruptly stopped talking, presumably because his brother had cut him off, and shifted his weight again. “I know, I know. I’m sorry! I just got caught up and—” He trailed off this time, and Roy guessed that they had been trying to speak at the same time and Al had won out. There was a longer pause than before, Edward tensing lightly before, finally, “Roy fucking _Mustang_.”

Personally, Roy was just impressed that Edward was able to say his name with so much distaste right after being so adorable the night before.

“Yeah, him.” Edward shifted again, running his free hand through his bangs. “I’ll be fine. If the bastard tries anything, I’ll kick his ass and be done with it.”

Roy scoffed at that, but Edward’s only response was tossing up his middle finger.

“Since when have I been a cause of worry?” Edward laughed at the obvious joke before continuing, “Alright. Tell Winry and Granny Pinako that I’ll visit soon, and Al?” A shorter pause. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

A few more seconds passed, and then Edward hung the phone back on the wall.

“That was touching.”

Was Roy mocking Edward? Yes. Did Edward’s near growl of irritation and muttered obscenity make Roy want to do it again? Yes, indeed.

“Shut it, Mustang.”

It was a quiet jab, and Roy immediately gathered that, save for his brother, Fullmetal wasn’t a morning person.

“Now, now, Fullmetal, with how much you tell me to stop talking, I’m beginning to think you only like me for my body.”

Roy smirked at Edward, who only looked and him and deadpanned, “Took you long enough.”

Then blonde hair swung around so that Edward could raid Roy’s fridge. Roy coughed to hide a chuckle, a genuinely amused smirk concealed from the world by a conveniently placed hand.

“What can I say? I expected better from you.”

Edward didn’t respond to the Colonel’s jab directly, instead shutting the door to the fridge and rifling through Roy’s cabinets and drawers instead.

“You know, you could always just ask me where something is.”

By the time Roy spoke, Edward had already pulled a box of cereal down from the fridge and found a spoon. The younger man scoffed, not pausing his search, and a few seconds later Roy spoiled it for him with a simple, “Two cabinets to your left.”

Edward paused, huffing in irritation, before moving to the correct cabinet and retrieving a bowl.

“Bastard.”

But there was little to no venom in the word. Edward took his seat across from Roy without looking at him again, easily pouring his cereal into the bowl and beginning to eat.

“You know, I really didn’t think you’d need me to tell you this, but the milk is in the fridge.”

Fullmetal looked up from his meal – if it could be called that – with a scowl.

“I don’t drink milk, Mustang.”

An amused smirk tugged at the edges of Roy’s lips. It wasn’t just that Edward didn’t like milk. He almost seemed repulsed by it.

“You could always make an omelet.”

Or anything other than dry cereal. To emphasize his point, Roy took a bite of his own omelet, which, if he was being modest about it, tasted amazing. Edward muttered something into his cereal in response.

“Fullmetal?”

Edward wasn’t one to mutter. Golden eyes snapped up, lips twisted into a frown.

“I said I can’t cook! Happy now?”

Roy blinked once. Twice. And then a smug, mocking smirk made its way to his lips. Ed’s scowl deepened at its appearance, but Roy was being nice. He could have laughed. He had wanted to laugh.

“Would you like me to cook for you?”

Mocking Edward had always been one of Roy’s favorite pass-times. Edward’s glare harshened before lightening up, and suddenly Ed was sporting a cocky grin.

“First day and you’re already making me breakfast? And here I had you pinned as a commitment-phobe.”

His elbows were on the table, mismatched fingers threaded together to make a seat for his chin. His body language screamed arrogance, but it was what wasn’t broadcasted that interested Roy. Edward hadn’t said no, and that spoke much louder volumes than anything else. Lots of things were obvious with Fullmetal; Roy enjoyed looking for the subtleties and exploiting them for his own pleasure.

Slowly, turning on every charm-switch he owned, Roy stood and, while passing by Edward’s now confused figure, whispered, “I told you already, Fullmetal. I’m _really_ into blondes.”

Soft blonde locks tickled Roy’s nose, and the smell of chalk, old books, and something musky – something more dangerous – made its way through Roy’s senses before the moment ended and Roy continued on his way to the fridge. Edward wanted Roy to stumble in his act, but Roy had been playing at this game far longer. The blush on Edward’s face was more than enough evidence of that.

If Edward blushed that fiercely without Roy even touching him, what would he do when—

“Wait, you’re seriously making me breakfast?”

Roy laid the ingredients out on the table, ignoring Edward’s question. Whatever conclusions the blonde would jump to would work better in Roy’s favor than anything he could come up with on the fly.

“Why?”

Well, Edward had never been one to waste time.

“Are you saying you don’t want it?”

Years on the road, an apparent inability to cook, and the usual lack of money (thanks to both Al’s schooling and damage control), had Roy betting that Edward wasn’t one to turn down a free meal. Especially not a home-cooked one.

Roy glanced back, a taunting smirk firmly in place if only to make Edward squirm a little more. The blonde glared fiercely, defensively, but he didn’t say anything, and it was delicious. A speechless Fullmetal was rare.

The omelet was separated from the pan, and minutes passed easily in silence. Easily for Roy, anyhow. Edward was burning a hole in the back of the Colonel’s head. He plated the food and sat it in front of Edward without any sort of flourish, knowing that the lack of his usual finesse would only confuse and irritate the blonde more. Long legs carried him back to his own seat, and Roy ignored his own food to pin Edward with a lazy stare.

Fullmetal moodily stabbed the food with his fork, giving Roy a pointed look before stuffing it gracelessly into his mouth. Edward paused his chewing to look at Roy in a light that made him have to physically stop his lips from curling upwards. Instead, he kept his expression lightly curious, waiting patiently for the inevitable.

“You’re a bastard. You know that, right?”

And his smirk could finally come through. Edward was simultaneously all over the place and alarmingly predictable. Roy often knew what direction he would go, but what he would do once he started down that path? It was like a fireworks show. He only knew that it was going to explode, not what color or shape it would take.

“So I’ve been told.” Many, many times. And not just by Edward, either. As much as he wanted to help the country and the people in it, this was a political battle, and people were bound to get, at the very least, pissed off.

Edward only hummed as he continued to eat, stuffing the food into his mouth far less gracefully than Roy. That was probably one of the largest, most notable differences between them. Edward’s grace was always natural. The way he walked, fought, and even pieced together a complicated hypothesis was just however he felt like doing it. He never put on a show for other people to watch and form opinions on. Roy’s grace (which doubled and even tripled the amount of Edward’s natural grace at most points in time) was duly calculated.

Sometimes it was overpowering, letting people know who, exactly, was in charge within seconds. Sometimes it was subtle, just enough to be noticed but not enough to fully entrance or intimidate. And sometimes, when he was at home after a long yet not particularly rough day, he had a lazy, natural grace about him. At this point, Roy’s grace was subtle; just enough to piss Edward off and nothing more.

Of course, Edward’s added irritation hardly made an appearance through his usual demeanor. He just continued to shovel food into his mouth, uncaring how he looked in front of one of the military’s most prominent officers. Roy waited until the food was nearly gone, his own, lesser plate included, before speaking again.

“How did you sleep?”

“What’s it to you?”

Defensive. Roy loved it when Fullmetal distrusted his charms. He hadn’t known he found intelligence _so_ attractive until he had met Edward.

“Just making polite conversation.”

Roy smiled, and Edward looked at him as though he was no more trustworthy than a theater villain before downing his entire glass of orange juice, drawing Roy’s eyes to his bobbing Adam’s apple. The glass clanked against the table as Edward (violently) set it down.

“I didn’t.”

Roy cocked a brow at the response, wondering both if Edward was really that on guard about being in his house and what had mussed up his hair if not sleeping.

“Arrogant bastard. It’s got nothing to do with you. I just got caught up in reading is all.”

Roy could understand that. He had spent enough nights pouring over the science of flame alchemy, battle strategies, and politics.

“What about?”

Roy was genuinely interested in which book Edward had started with, but the distrust that Edward still eyed him with certainly wasn’t unfounded. The information may or may not be used for Roy’s benefit later. The pause didn’t last nearly as long this time, when Edward started talking again his eyes were focused on something Roy couldn’t see.

“The rules of equivalent exchange state that we have to give up what we get, but _Equivalent to Whom_ is one of the original works expounding on why and how. It even has mentions of The Gate. A lot of the science is out of date, of course, but if it’s actually a molecular rearrangement like this book implies than the combination of circles can be done without the algorithms used today. And with what we now know about The Gate, putting this information into action would hardly take any time at all.

“It may even be possible to manipulate the rearrangement itself to make the final product more stable. You put in the same ingredients, but that doesn’t always make the end-product quality. Usually that takes more concentration and specifics in the circle that most people either don’t bother with or don’t know about. If we can simplify it into a common practice—” Edward stopped abruptly, hand going to the back of his head (most likely out of habit). “My bad. I’m used to bouncing ideas off of Al.”

He certainly didn’t _look_ sorry, but there was a tinge of offhanded apology in his voice.

“You’re fine. How does molecular rearrangement being the process change anything?”

It seemed like however the alchemy worked – science or magic or The Gate or whatever – didn’t matter all that much as long as it did, in fact, work. Roy had assumed that as long as they could manipulate the overall reaction, that was what mattered, but if these theories could make his alchemy stronger…

Fullmetal looked at Roy for a moment before biting his lip, probably thinking about how to explain it. As much as Edward didn’t like talking to Roy, he loved talking about alchemic theory.

“Because we choose runes and arrangements based on what we need. Runes are added today to increase the quality of the product, but if alchemy is actually molecular rearrangement than changing some of the runes slightly or adding a singular concentration rune should have a major impact on quality control.

“I haven’t tested anything yet to be sure, but the way we arrange them now is based on being able to form a connection with the starting materials and the end product, and if we take it a step farther with the molecule theory then the arrangements of our circles can become more precise without all of the extra work. And as long as I can figure out the implementation of this information, Al can publish a paper on it. Spreading this information could help a lot of people.”

“Why Alphonse and not you?”

Roy half-stared at his house-mate, curiosity light enough to both make the question feel casual and keep his burning curiosity out of sight. Edward eyed him for a long minute, this time with more wariness, before running his tongue across his incisors and deepening his frown.

“Very funny, Mustang.”

Before Roy could do anything more than scrunch his brows in confusion, Edward was standing, his musculature flexing from the motion, and moving from the room. Roy stayed put, choosing to wait for more information before acting again. Besides, it looked like he had reading to do.

What in the hell was the _current_ theory for why alchemy worked, anyhow?


	4. Chapter Four

Roy awoke to the sound of his door clicking as the knob was turned and opened his eyes ever so slightly to watch his intruder enter through thick lashes, discreetly slipping his glove on under his pillow. Of course, his fingers immediately relaxed from their snapping position when he spotted golden locks. Edward was trying (and failing) to sneak into Roy’s room unnoticed, but if the reports were anything to be believed, stealth was never his strong suit anyhow.

That left the question of why.

They still had a good hour or so before getting up should have even been considered, and even then there was a snooze button for a reason. Edward paused near the bed, giving Roy a view of both his well-defined abs and the towel draped over his shoulders. If it was lighter, he’d probably be able to make out specific battle wounds as well. Edward tilted his head, staring for a long moment before snorting derisively and finishing his walk to the bathroom. Once the water started running, Roy allowed himself to open his eyes fully.

Edward didn’t seem like much of an early riser, and he certainly hadn’t went to sleep early. So, what had him up? Roy closed his eyes again, his non-gloved hand running lazily through unkempt locks. He could always just go back to sleep. His hand stilled as his lips tugged into a frown. Go to sleep when Edward was naked and covered in water less than fifty feet away?

Right.

Roy rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, unwilling to get up just yet. It wasn’t like class was going to start any earlier, and he didn’t have to go to work until after classes ended, so there really wasn’t a reason for getting up. Not a reason that he wouldn’t want to use the shower for, anyhow. After all, there was no telling when Edward would get out of the shower, and that would be a fairly precarious position to be caught in.

Well, for the moment.

When the bathroom door opened again, so did Roy’s eyes. Obsidian met gold for a moment before Edward sneered, making his way back out of the room in the seconds that followed. Roy didn’t miss the way those brilliant orbs had swept over his naked chest first though.

Edward was attracted to him. It was obvious, if not for the quick glances and the _swooning_ (which really didn’t suit him) than for the way Edward had glared when he saw Roy changing for gym class. Fullmetal didn’t like Roy himself, but he did like Roy’s body, and that was a step in the right direction; a direction that would have golden orbs hazing over in pleasure while they—

And now he needed the shower.

Roy sighed, tossing off the covers and standing up in a single motion. He tugged off his glove and tossed it onto his pillow, and, having nothing else to take off, strode into the bathroom. It looked like he would need the extra time Edward had provided him with after all.

After washing rather thoroughly, Roy found himself alone in the kitchen. Edward had an appetite to rival an army and had been awake for who knew how long. Why wasn’t he rifling through Roy’s pantry by now?

Curious eyes swept the empty room once more before Roy traveled back up the stairs, stopping outside of the library so that cloth-encased knuckles could rap on the door.

“Fullmetal, it’s almost time to go.”

No response.

“Fullmetal?”

The house was eerily quiet when there should have been a loud, disgruntled blonde. Fingers ready to snap, Roy entered the room anyhow, stopping short the second he stepped in. The library had been, for lack of a better word, wrecked.

Books were strewn about all over the floor and furniture with seemingly no coordination, notebooks and pieces of paper with illegible scribbles were lying randomly about, and Roy could just make out chalk marks underneath some of the mess. Edward was nowhere in sight. A frown tugged at Roy’s lips as he overlooked what was once an immaculate area.

He wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but it looked an awful lot like Edward had left without him.

Roy closed the door softly behind him, knowing that if he went too fast it would blow the random papers around and mess up whatever kind of ‘order’ Fullmetal had them set up in. He had expected Edward to be difficult, but this was just childish. It was a fucking ride to school; a trip that Roy had to make on his own anyway.

By the time Roy started his car, the mild irritation simmered down to curiosity and the need to plan.

Did Edward just not want to be seen with him? It was a fine possibility, but it was also basically nullified by Edward’s lack of care for what people thought. Maybe he wanted to check out his new surroundings, what with his attraction to anything and everything troublesome. But why not do that in the daylight?

Despite today’s oddity, the weekend coupled with Edward’s many nearly-late to late days in class pointed to Edward being a late-riser. There had to be something Roy was missing.

Roy was no closer to an answer as he entered the classroom, but when Edward came into view, sitting in his usual seat by the window reading away, all he wondered was how he hadn’t instantly figured out the blonde’s scheme. Edward was trying to show him that even if they lived together, nothing was going to change. He was asserting his independence.

Well, that wasn’t something Roy was trying to take. He wanted Edward _because_ the man was so independent. Years in the military had done absolutely nothing to curb Edward’s rebelliousness, if that was any indication of his ability to be swayed.

Edward wasn’t something that could be captured or tamed. The goal wasn’t to snuff out Edward’s flame but to get close enough to feel its heat. Roy didn’t know what it was about Ed, but the younger man made him feel… _alive_. Just coming in contact made his Core spark to life, even more so since coming into his Inheritance.

Roy walked over to his normal seat. If Edward wanted space, he could have it. They would close the gap in time.

“C-congratulations.”

Sheska ‘s soft voice caught Roy’s attention more so than usual as it wasn’t at his side. Obsidian eyes slid over to look at the source of the voice, and Roy positioned himself to appear as though he were paying more attention to whatever Russell was rambling on about.

Sheska had approached Edward, who still hadn’t looked up from his book. She fiddled with her hands nervously, fidgeting under the pressure of speaking to Edward without the blonde initiating the conversation.

“Roy, I know this is part of some bigger picture, but I don’t understand what that picture is. Why _him_?” Russell continued his rant, but Roy just gave a mysterious, I-won’t-answer-you smile while focusing on what Sheska had to say.

“I-I know you didn’t—didn’t really like the C-colonel, but I’m really ha-happy for you.”

It was clear that she had been hoping to be chosen herself, but her happiness for him was sincere. Edward scribbled something else on his paper, not even pretending to pay attention to her.

It took quite a few conversations in the library for Roy to realize that Edward wasn’t doing it on purpose; he was just too absorbed in his own world to take reality into account. Maes never let Roy live down that he had figured this out in one meeting while Roy had taken three, but Edward ignored him on a regular basis, so it was different.

Sheska fidgeted more as the seconds slipped by, the blush creeping up her cheeks showing that she thought she was being deliberately ignored. As far as Roy knew, the poor girl had only ever spoken to Edward as he entered or left the library, not when he was in the middle of his research.

Another minute passed before Sheska bowed her head and hurried back to her usual place around Roy. She was embarrassed and ashamed. Perhaps a part of her crush on Edward remained even after all this time.

That was why Roy had enchanted her in the first place.

It wasn’t like she could be with Edward anyway: they both had Energy Cores. They could never bond. He was stopping the inevitable heartbreak where it stood. Besides, Sheska was too gentle for Edward. He needed someone to challenge him; to take care of him. Just the same, he needed someone he could take care of; someone to be his equal. Sheska just wasn’t suitable for the job.

It was much preferred that she would break her heart on Roy, just in case Edward (assuming he would ever notice her interest) decided to give her a shot. It would be harder to get over a man who gave her a chance than one who was forever a fantasy.

Roy made eye contact, giving her a gracious smile along with a mouthed ‘thank you.’ He would have said it aloud, but he wasn’t in the mood to listen to Russell’s whining at being interrupted. Especially when the answer to why he was being interrupted revolved around Edward. There was a rivalry between the two that only Russell acknowledged.

Roy found it mildly entertaining, honestly.

The older of the Tringham brothers had plenty of flaws, his quickness to jump to conclusions being one of them, but he was a good man overall. He cared about his brother more than his own life, and, much like Edward, was working towards giving his younger sibling a better life. Roy had met Fletcher on a few occasions, but the younger brother didn’t strike Roy as anything special. Not like the one time he had met Alphonse. Brilliance ran in the Elric family, and while the Tringhams were bright, they just couldn’t compare.

The Colonel’s attention was forced back to the front as Armstrong entered the room. Unlike Edward, he couldn’t afford not to pay attention.

**(***Intertwined***)**

One week. One week of leaving early, reading everything he could get his hands on, creating new notes and theories, and _avoiding Mustang_. One week and Mustang had finally decided to end his peace by knocking on his door.

And speaking.

Continuously.

“Fullmetal, you have to eat eventually. Come down already.”

Ed had been eating, just not with the bastard on the other side of the door.

“Come on, Edward. Don’t make me break down the door to my own library.”

Briefly, Ed wondered how Mustang knew he had transfigured a deadbolt onto the door. Instead of questioning it, however, he sighed and stood up, making his way around the mess of his ‘room’ to get to the door. When he opened the door, Mustang’s ever immaculate presence greeted him.

The man had settled in since getting off work. Ed wasn’t entirely sure what time it was, so he couldn’t say how long ago that was (not that what time Mustang got back was any more consistent than Ed’s own), but it looked like it had been a while.

“I’m not hungry.”

A lie, but he could eat later. _After_ Mustang had disappeared into his study.

“I have steak.”

Ed couldn’t help it. He perked up at the word steak. Mustang must have seen it, too, since he quickly continued, “From the little diner down on Fifth Street.”

Ed scowled. That was his favorite restaurant. He shut the door behind him as he entered the hallway, scowl deepening when Mustang didn’t back up to give him more room. He felt the tug of Mustang’s Core, causing him to move away more quickly than he may have with others. Ed didn’t pause until he reached the top of the steps, where he turned back to face the yet-to-budge Colonel.

“Well?”

The replying smirk was all Ed needed to turn and keep going. When he got to the kitchen, Ed was surprised to see one take-out box and books. He blinked, looking around for a second box but seeing none. Mustang stepped into the room seconds later and motioned to the box.

“Dig in.”

Ed’s eyes narrowed at the arrogance dripping from those two simple words, and he was tempted to take the box and return to his room. Curiosity, as it so often did, convinced him to stay where he’d really rather not be.

“Where’s yours?”

He locked eyes with Mustang for only a moment as the man sat down, Mustang’s attention turning quickly to the books.

“I ate at the restaurant like a normal person,” Mustang paused in his insult/explanation to flip through the pages of one of the books, “with a rather lovely lady named Michelle.”

Ed opened his mouth to make a snide comment about how it was amazing Mustang managed to reign in his sex drive long enough to bring food home when logic stopped him. Heavy boots closed the distance between Ed and the table with a few short steps before Ed flipped the lid of the Styrofoam container up to see a full meal. Not leftovers.

Ed couldn’t be sure whether Michelle had done something to turn him off or if Mustang had never planned on taking her home in the first place, but he had decided on coming home and giving Ed food before the date had ended. Ed pursed his lips, turning his attention to the small stack of books Mustang was looking through instead.

They looked familiar, and Ed only had to pause for a moment to realize that the Colonel was working on their paper for Theoretical vs. Practical Transmutations. Ed had only chosen to cite two of the five books that Mustang was using, but the others weren’t bad choices. Glancing at his steak once more, Ed turned and went back up the steps.

A few minutes later, Ed was back downstairs with three books of his own and a notebook. He set the books down next to his white box, taking one of them out and placing it fairly forcefully on top of what Mustang was writing. Mustang lifted his head, but Ed made sure not to look in his direction.

“That’ll give you more in depth versions of the same information in both Jhendal’s and Coria’s books.”

Ed refused to say anything more as he sat down and dug into his meal, eyes already picking up where he had left off upstairs. Mustang didn’t say anything, but Ed heard the chair scrape against the wooden floor and the thump of what he would be willing to bet was two books being placed on said chair. After that, Ed paid more attention to his food and studies than the man beside of him. Though, if only in the back of his mind, he would admit that having Mustang so close made his Core hum happily.

The food didn’t last very long, but Ed didn’t head back to his room, merely spread out a little more and took more notes.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before a wave of sleepiness warned him to go to bed, but Ed found himself yawning and re-taking in his surroundings nonetheless. Mustang was hard at work, pouring over the book Ed had given him. Golden eyes ran over the scene.

Mustang looked the most at home Edward had ever seen him; white dress-shirt rolled up to his elbows with the first three buttons undone, one hand threaded into thick black locks, the other writing elegant script on notebook paper that focused obsidian orbs weren’t even looking at.

Roy Mustang was undeniably handsome.

It actually hurt a little to look at him. The man being good-looking was one thing. It was that in combination with his intelligence. He wasn’t a genius, but he was a quick learner. And he had the _drive_ to put his intelligence to good use. Not only his general intelligence but his quick-wit.

He thought on his feet, always able to make quick judgments in not only combat orientation but social situations that somehow always ended up best for him. Ed may have been able to destroy Mustang academically, but the other man could walk circles around him socially. Friends and enemies alike could find themselves enchanted by him, even if only for a few minutes.

And then Mustang’s inability not to be a bastard would shine through. He would make some snide comment or display arrogance over basically any topic. He would sneer at the thought of something getting in his way. He would offer up a sardonic smile that was just as much a threat – just as dangerous – as if he had raised a gloved hand in preparation to snap.

Mustang was ambitious, smart, persuasive, charming, charismatic, cunning, dangerous, and so many other things that Ed wasn’t even aware of. In fact, even the list of things that he knew – he _knew_ – about Mustang could be false. They weren’t exactly close. There was only one thing he could say without a doubt.

Mustang wanted to make a difference, and he _could_.

If Ed fell asleep staring at Roy Mustang that night, he would never admit to it.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed felt a hand shaking his bicep along with a voice calling him out of the haze. He had a crick in his neck that he was fairly used to waking up with but no urge to actually open his eyes. Instead, he shifted away and turned his head from the disturbance. The grip on his arm only got stronger.

“No, Al. I was up late. Show me later.” He shook the hand off again, wondering when Al’s hands got bigger but sleep blurring his ability to care.

“-al. Fullmetal, get up. It’s almost time to go.” A harder shake. “Edward—”

Geez, when did Al stop calling him ‘Brother?’ And when did he get so forceful, and—

“God, Al! I’m up! When did your voice get so…” Ed trailed off as he sat up, grumpily glaring at… “deep.”

All inflection dropped as Ed took in Mustang’s perfectly dressed figure, right down to the long black petty coat over his uniform. Mustang gave a too-satisfied smirk.

“Go get ready. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

Ed glanced at the clock, quickly putting together that Mustang had purposefully waited to wake him until Ed didn’t have the option of walking or running with any hope of getting there on time.

“Fucking bastard!”

And then Ed was up the steps, pulling off his clothes and tossing them into the corner where the floor was actually visible. He just as quickly pulled on his last set of clean clothes before hurrying back down the stairs. He cursed the entire way.

Golden eyes glanced longingly at the books he had fallen asleep on, but this wasn’t one of his reading days so the temptations were best left here. He also planned on going running after classes ended and maybe finding a sparring partner or two, so it didn’t make sense to bring them for later. Still, he would have been able to get a few more pages in if he had set the alchemic alarm system like usual. Instead of those few pages, he would probably be out training until he was almost too exhausted to walk back, so his theories would have to wait.

Ed scowled at Mustang, who still hadn’t moved, before basically stomping out to the sleek black vehicle and going over to the passenger side door. He would have slid into the passenger’s seat, but Mustang kept his car locked even in his garage. That forced him to huff, cross his arms, and wait. Three minutes later, Mustang walked out, calmly putting the keys into the door and, after getting himself fully situated and the car turned on, unlocked Ed’s door.

“I told you ten minutes. No more, no less. Are you sure you’ve been in the military?”

Mustang was toying with him, but Ed wasn’t in the mood. It was too early.

It was always too early.

“What can I say? I don’t make a very good dog.”

Mustang’s eyes slid over to Ed for a moment before returning to the road while Ed’s own eyes stayed focused stubbornly out the window.

“I know.”

There was something behind the words; something taunting that didn’t seem to be aimed at Ed. The blonde’s resolve not to look at Mustang was forgotten as he turned his head to fully study the Colonel.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Calm down, Fullmetal. I was agreeing with you.”

But the playful arrogance in his tone was covering curiosity. Mustang didn’t know what Ed knew and was trying to bait him. Meaning there was something to know. Ed’s eyes narrowed, and he hummed contemplatively before moving his attention back out the window. Mustang was hiding something, but he was always hiding something. Ed rarely had reason to care. This time it wasn’t about some stupid political dance though. This time he was hiding something about Ed.

It wasn’t his Core. Mustang would have just cornered him if he knew anything about that. By proxy, that meant he didn’t know about what had went on during his Inheritance. It couldn’t have to do with Al because even Mustang knew that Ed would murder for his brother without hesitation.

The quickest way to cut any and all ties with Ed was to hide something about Al, and cutting ties was the opposite of what Mustang wanted. Ed would admit that it bothered him more than a little that something was being hidden about him, but…

Well, he was hiding information about Mustang, too. About his Inheritance. If Ed had an Inheritance, he would want to know what happened during it. Maybe what Mustang was hiding was important. Maybe it wasn’t. For now, Ed would consider them even.

It wasn’t until they reached the school that either of them spoke again, and even that was just for Ed’s, “Thanks for the ride.” He was out of the car before the engine turned off.

If they walked to class together, it might give Mustang the wrong idea. They were not _friends_. Ed didn’t want to _be_ his friend. Mustang would only use Ed’s reputation to further his career.

Instead, Ed would walk to class alone and sit in the back of the classroom alone, like usual.

At least, that’s how it would have gone if Scar hadn’t been in his seat. Golden eyes blinked, and then Ed made his way over. Scar wouldn’t sit in his seat unless he had something to say.

Ed stopped in front of Scar, for once looking down on the large man, and waited. Scar had been staring him down since he entered, eyes ever-hidden by his sunglasses, so it wasn’t as much ‘getting his attention’ as it was waiting for the normally silent man to speak. For a long minute, Scar just continued his examination.

Ed shifted his feet, uncomfortable with the one-on-one attention.

“He’s not right for you.”

The words were monotonous, and the voice was deep. It was Ed’s turn to stare.

“And?”

“Was this not arranged by the two of you?”

Inwardly, Ed wondered what other rumors were floating around. Outwardly, he sneered at the thought of volunteering for two months with Mustang.

“Nah. He just doesn’t know where to draw the line with his stupid fucking pranks.”

Because that’s all this was: a chance to make Ed uncomfortable. Scar didn’t respond again, but he nodded and stood from Ed’s seat. Ed hesitated a moment before deciding there would never really be a _good_ time to make this particular point known and calling out to Scar.

“Hey.”

Scar faltered in his steps and turned.

“You aren’t right for me either, you know.”

Always an awkward conversation, but one that was better to get out of the way. Scar, as per usual, preferred to stare rather than say anything, and after two full minutes, Ed began to wonder if he had misjudged the situation. Ed wasn’t exactly the most attractive man out there, so to assume that Scar was romantically interested in him just because he showed a little concern was—

“Not yet.”

And then Scar walked back to his usual seat, his attention turned out the window as though nothing had happened. Ed stared for another moment, more than a little confused, before shaking his head and sitting in the recently vacated chair. He had yet to meet someone with a Water Core that liked to make sense.

The current Führer had a Water Core.

Ed’s attention returned only when his name was called. Golden eyes turned towards the front of the room, focusing on Armstrong’s sparkling form. He could see cloth straining over ever-flexing muscles even from the back of the room.

Ed, having always had a lithe build himself, wondered if it was hard to move normally with that much musculature. Then again, Armstrong was swift enough in a fight for Ed to assume he could lead a normal life if he would only wear looser clothes.

“Well, Edward? What do you think?”

Ed hesitated. He tried to think back on what they had been discussing, but the class material blurred together so heavily at this point that it was hard to pick out any particular subtopic.

“No need to think it over so heavily, Edward! How has your view on bonding changed since you started living with Roy? Are you more excited for it now?”

Armstrong was grinning away, his full attention on Ed, and the Fullmetal alchemist glanced around to note that _everyone’s_ attention was on him.

They weren’t just trying to get through class. They wanted to know Ed’s answer. Golden eyes paused on sunglasses before moving to meet obsidian eyes and finally stopping on the window, where they had started.

“I don’t plan on bonding.”

He didn’t. He _couldn’t_. After a few seconds of complete silence, Armstrong’s jovial laughter cut through the tension.

“Oh, you are funny! Surely you—”

“I’m not joking. I won’t bond.”

He wouldn’t be anyone’s political stepping stone. The silence lasted longer this time, but Ed refused to look away from the scene outside.

“Why wouldn’t you want—”

This time, it was the bell that interrupted the Strong Arm alchemist. When Ed tried to file out with everyone else, Armstrong stopped him. Once the room had emptied, however slowly, the larger man closed the door.

“Edward, this news concerns me.”

He looked concerned. He _sounded_ concerned. Edward shrugged. Large hands landed on either of Ed’s shoulders, forcing Ed to give his full attention to the older man.

“You are very well-versed in the theoretics of bonding, there is no denying that, but you seem not to be aware of the practicalities. It not only helps strengthen individual Core, but _connects_ people.”

He spoke of bonding with utmost joy, the sparkles behind him shining almost brightly enough to blind.

“I get that. It’s just not—” physically possible, “—for me. I don’t want it.”

It was a half-truth. Ed didn’t like lying, especially not to Armstrong. The man was so kind, so genuine, that Ed hated the thought of being what hurt his seemingly ever-fragile feelings.

“But Edward! One day you’ll find someone who will—” not be able to bond with Ed because their Cores wouldn’t align, “—love you as much as you love him or her! This world has forced you to grow up too quickly, but you cannot lose hope, my young friend!”

Can’t lose hope. Ha! Right. Ed’s hope of finding an Activation Fire Core holder who would want him for him burned down along with his and Al’s childhood home. Now it was all about making sure Al had whatever he wanted.

“Thanks, but I should really be going.”

Ed raised his hand to scratch behind his head, uncomfortable with getting any deeper into the conversation. Armstrong accepted his apologetic smile and lame excuse after only a moment of sympathetic staring and sent Ed off with a strong (too strong, really) pat on the back.

As he left the classroom, Ed’s only thoughts were on the training he was about to force his body to endure.


	5. Chapter Five

“Ed? You okay?”

Golden eyes cracked open to meet brown. Ed had collapsed a while back after finishing his workout, and he had been lying on the ground ever since.

“I’m fine, Maes. What are you doing here?”

Maes grinned at the question, raising the shopping bags in his hands to emphasize them.

“Just picking up some ingredients for dinner. My beautiful daughter and gorgeous wife are cooking a meal together tonight! I think my little Elicia might be a chef when she gets older. She’s just so talented! It’s clear where she gets it from. She—”

Ed cut Maes off with a tired but genuine laugh, and Maes’ grin got wider, clearly pleased with the response.

“Say, Ed. How about you come have dinner with us tonight?”

Ed stared for only a second before breaking into a grin. He was never one to turn down food.

“Only if you help me up.”

His arm raised from its comfortable spot on the ground, and Maes shifted his bags to take Ed’s hand. Ed groaned as he was pulled to his feet, his body protesting against the movement.

“My car is over there. We’ve got to make a small stop on the way. I’ve got one more little thing to pick up. That is, if you don’t mind?”

Maes’ smile didn’t falter, and Ed plucked his cloak off the ground and slung it over his shoulder as he began to walk towards the direction Maes had gestured.

“Nah. It’s not like I have anything to do after this.”

Ed slipped into the passenger’s seat of the vehicle while Maes situated the groceries in the back. Once Maes joined him, the conversation continued.

“So, no homework, I take it?”

Maes glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, and Ed shrugged.

“I don’t know. Al has my syllabi, so if I don’t do it the day it’s assigned, he’ll call me the night before it’s due to remind me.”

“The night before it’s due? Isn’t that cutting it pretty close?” Maes sounded amused, but Ed just shrugged again. It was always plenty of time. “Well, how’s Al doing nowadays? He making any progress with Winry?”

Ed scoffed at that one, turning his head to look at the driver.

“You know how he is. Al would rather live as friends for the next ten years and be sure she’ll say yes than make a move ‘too early’ and risk what they have now.”

Winry was a little dense when it came to Al’s feelings, but she cared about him. She cared a lot more than ‘just friends.’ Maes chuckled knowingly.

“Well, it is scary. I wanted to be certain before I confronted my Gracia, but her beauty and magnificence overwhelmed me, and I just couldn’t wait! I walked right up to her and—actually, hold on. We’re here. You want to run in with me?”

Ed looked back out the windshield to see Central Command looming ahead of them. Maes wasn’t usually one to bring his work home with him, namely because he couldn’t focus on anything but family when they were within 100 meters of him, so what could he need to pick up?

“Sure.”

Ed hadn’t actually been inside the building in quite a while thanks to the academy. He got out of the car and walked amicably beside of Maes, only half-listening to him ramble on about his incredible family. The pictures were out already, of course, but that only made Ed grin more.

It was… it was actually really nice to see that Maes’ attitude towards him hadn’t changed even after learning about his Core. Before, only Al, Winry, and Granny Pinako knew about it. Honestly, it was refreshing to know that even if the truth got out, at least some things would never change.

Ed thought about thanking Maes for a moment – letting him know how much the normalcy really meant – but this was Maes Hughes. The man probably already knew.

They took random turns that Ed had never personally used before, and Ed allowed his attention to wander as they made their way through the labyrinth of a building. It came back, however, when Maes turned towards a closed door and Ed knew they had reached their destination. When Maes opened the door, four men’s eyes trained on them.

Ed’s attention was first drawn to the two men playing chess. One of them was somewhat short and stocky with auburn hair styled in a shaggy crew-cut. His facial expression and open military jacket said he didn’t much care about what they were there for, but his eyes told a different story. They were a dark, intelligent brown, and they knew more than they let on. Ed would say he probably knew why Maes was there and was currently cataloging Ed.

His opponent was taller and more lean. He also looked older, his facial structure more defined. Gray hair was also in a crew cut, but the top was longer than the first man’s. The taller one’s eyes were mostly closed, and he had a gentle smile on his face. It looked too much like Maes’ for Ed to think that the man was any less intelligent than the guy he was playing against.

Then, on the other side of the room, there was one man who looked a fair amount younger than the others. He had spiked black hair (naturally so, it seemed) and large brown eyes. He wore glasses that only had frames on the top-half. His body language was tenser than his companions, but Ed would bet he didn’t get into this group by being jumpy. He was more obvious in his observations, looking Ed over like he was a story book character that the young man had never expected to meet.

Behind the young guy was a lean, tall, blonde man with a cigarette in his mouth. He was leaning back in his chair with his combat boots resting on his desk, a half-interested expression on his face as he looked Ed over. He didn’t have the same amount of intelligence racing through his blue eyes, but that Ed had found that rarely meant much. Ed’s instincts said the older blonde was a good man, and that was all that really mattered.

“Hughes! Long time no see.” The auburn haired man spoke up, a smile curling on his lips. “Who’s your friend?”

He nodded towards Ed, and Ed stepped forward before Maes could introduce him.

“Name’s Ed. We’re just here to pick something up.”

He thought about saying Elric, but there was no way to tell how they would feel about the Alchemist of the People. Being on Maes’ good side gave him a few points to start the game off, but Ed just wasn’t in the mood to deal with stuck up military officials in case those points weren’t enough. The gray haired man grinned in response.

“Nice to meet you, Ed.”

A chorus of ‘hey’ and ‘hello’ followed that, and it looked like the man was going to continue into an introduction when the sound of a gunshot from an office in the back of the larger room cut him off. Ed immediately stilled, palms inches apart and ready to transmute his arm into a weapon, when Maes put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that. It’s just Hawkeye getting the boss man back on track.”

The blonde was grinning around his cigarette, and, after a reassuring look from Maes, Ed lowered his defenses.

“Speaking of the boss man…” Maes trailed off as he allowed his hand to slip from Ed’s shoulder and walked towards the door the shot had sounded from.

Ed chose not to follow him, and that was probably for the best as Maes entered the office without knocking (clearly a good friend). A few minutes later, a blonde woman came out, shutting the door softly behind her. She had her hair pinned up into a bun, stern brown eyes immediately running over the occupants of the room and stopping on Ed. Her eyes narrowed.

“May I help you with something, Major Elric?”

She didn’t seem pleased, but she didn’t seem displeased, either, and Ed scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile as his identity was placed out in the open.

“Nah. I’m just going to have dinner with Maes, but he needed to pick something up first. I’m assuming he’s getting it from whoever’s in there.”

Ed pointed at the door, and the woman gave something just short of an amused smile after glancing at the door in understanding.

“So, you’re the famous Fullmetal Alchemist, huh? Do you really have automail? I mean, it’s such a controversial science that—I’m sorry. I get too excited sometimes. My name is Sergeant Major Kain Fuery, but I usually go by Fuery.”

The youngest of the group smiled, and Ed grinned back, used to the questioning and personally just pleased that this wasn’t one of the groups with something against him. A somewhat embarrassed laugh left Ed’s lips as he answered.

“Yeah. Though I wouldn’t call myself famous. And it’s really nothing special.”

Ed shrugged off one shoulder of his red, hooded cloak to reveal his automail before righting it again.

“Well, whether it’s your preferred wording or not, you _are_ famous.” The gray-haired man’s words drew Ed’s attention next. “Vato Falman, at your service.”

He smiled kindly, and Ed nodded back.

“I guess it’s introductions all around, huh? I’m Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda. Just call me Breda.”

The only one not keeping to uniform standards (not that Ed had any room to talk) nodded to Ed.

“Guess that leaves me. I’m Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc. Now, no matter whether you call it famous or not, you did travel a lot, right?”

Ed tilted his head a little at the question before nodding, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Then you must have met _tons_ of women! I know you have to worry about being picky because of the whole bonding thing, but I don’t have that issue! Is there anyone you could call up?”

The next thing Ed knew, Havoc was right beside of him, one arm around his shoulder and the other moving in a line in front of them.

“Just picture it, Fullmetal. You and me, a nice restaurant, two gorgeous ladies sitting across from us, all dolled up and in nice, short, low-cut dresses—”

Havoc stopped short as a bullet flew directly between their heads, and Ed’s eyes went straight to the final blonde in the room.

“Hawkeye. As nice as it is to meet you, it would be best if everyone got back to work.”

Her pistol was already re-cocked, and Ed was about to take that as his cue to wait for Maes in the car when the office door opened again, allowing its occupants to exit. Havoc’s arm was heavy on his shoulder as two very masculine figures entered the room: Maes and—

“Colonel Bastard?”

No fucking way.

Ed wanted to look around, just to soak in the full reality of having just met Mustang’s crew, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the black haired, black eyed devil. A crooked smile made its way to said devil’s lips, but only after they had thinned into a tight line for a barely existent second. Mustang hadn’t been pleased to see him at his work place.

Ed scowled. Well, he hadn’t ever wanted to see where the bastard worked, either.

“Slow down with the pet names, Fullmetal. I’m shy.”

Shy. Right.

“Shut the fuck up, Mustang. I may be tired, but I’ll always have the energy to punch that damn smug grin off your face.”

Havoc removed his arm from Ed’s shoulders as soon as Ed finished snarling his threat, and Ed glanced over, having nearly forgotten he was there. Havoc looked surprised and a little wary, blue eyes glancing between Ed and Mustang.

“You sure you can reach that high?”

Mustang was just as taunting as ever, and Ed’s hands itched to bruise his perfect jaw.

“Come over here and let’s find out.”

And, like so often when Ed didn’t think before speaking, Mustang rose to the occasion. Long, uniformed legs carried Mustang far too close to Ed, and the arrogant Colonel’s smirk did stupid things to Ed’s Core, baiting Ed to move even closer. It didn’t make a lot of sense how a facial expression could make him want to get closer to Mustang, but there was no documentation of two Fire Core holders with a partial bond, so who was Ed to say this wasn’t a crazy side effect?

Ed’s hands curled into fists at the unfairness of it all; having one of the only people on Earth he could possibly bond with be a bastard who, if he had any idea what he did to Ed’s Core, would only use Ed until the blonde couldn’t take it anymore before tossing him away.

Before Ed could throw a fist at Mustang’s horribly smug face, Maes had one hand on each of their chests, pushing them apart.

“Now, now, boys. No fighting in the house.”

Ed looked up at Maes, a scowl on his features, before crossing his arms over his chest and stepping back even further to lean against the wall.

“Haven’t you gotten what we came here for yet?”

“Yep.” Maes grinned and grabbed onto the cloth of the shoulder portion of Mustang’s black coat and tugged upwards. “I got it.”

Mustang looked unamusedly at Hughes while golden eyes widened.

“ _That’s_ what you came here to get?”

Ed wasn’t going to lie. The thought of spending dinner with Mustang made him want to scream. Mustang turned his attention back to Ed, and that infuriating taunt was back in his eyes, the one where they both knew that the Colonel had a way to irritate him and was excited to use it.

“Already objectifying me, Fullmetal? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

Mustang’s voice was spun sugar, and Ed rolled his eyes. It was then that he realized no one had left the room. Mustang’s entire team was staring at them as though this was their new favorite show, and Ed felt blood rush to his cheeks. He didn’t really like being the center of attention.

“Shut up, Mustang.” But the bite in his words was next-to-absent. Golden eyes moved away from Mustang to look at Maes. “Sorry, Maes. I’m going back to the house.”

The house. Never home.

In the back of his mind, Ed noted that it had been a while since he had felt so tired.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy wouldn’t call it an obsession. Obsession implied that Roy didn’t have control. The feelings he harbored for Edward were just interest. If he happened to find everything interesting, it was because everything about the eldest Elric was interesting, not because he was obsessed.

All of this _interest_ , coupled with Roy’s meticulous (and somewhat controlling) nature, meant that he noticed, well, everything about the blonde. He had noticed Havoc’s arm slung a little too friendlily around Fullmetal’s shoulders and resisted the urge to put a more literal spark between the two. (Havoc was infallibly straight, yes, but that didn’t stop Roy from commandeering Edward’s attention for himself.)

He had noticed the flash of want in Edward’s eyes when they had gotten close enough to touch. He had noticed the bitterness and pain that had mixed with the anger directly after the want had disappeared. He had noticed tired muscles tense up, ready to fight once more despite how Edward had most likely run his body ragged (if his clothes and demeanor were anything to go by) less than an hour before.

And now, he noticed the exhaustion. It was something Fullmetal rarely let surface: just how much life had worn him down. For a splinter of a moment, though, that was exactly was broke through Edward’s walls, and Roy noticed.

Maes released his hold on Roy, their eyes connecting briefly to exchange the knowledge that Maes had seen it, too, before the bespectacled male stepped forwards, both hands up in a jokingly defensive position.

“C’mon, Ed. Gracia’s worried about you taking care of yourself since Al went to Resembool, and I already promised Elicia she’d get to see you tonight! Besides, I know you’re hungry, and Gracia’s making the most delicious casserole you’ve ever had! Just wait until you taste it; my beautiful wife is the best chef in the world, I swear.”

Edward hesitated at the speech, always an easy man to send on a guilt trip, and Roy felt both his shoulders being grabbed before he was pushed forward and presented to the blonde.

“And little Roy here will be on his absolute best behavior! I promise!”

Maes’ family-man charm was turned to its highest notch, and Roy gave Fullmetal an ‘I-suppose-I’ll-go-along-with-what-he’s-saying’ look.

“So, how’s about we give this one more shot, and if Roy steps out of line, he can find his own dinner?”

Roy immediately noted that Fullmetal had been deemed more important and gave his best friend the mildly irritated look deemed most appropriate for the situation. There was a final pause before Edward half-sighed, half-laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it already. I’ll wait in the car.” The hand moved to wave to the general vicinity of the room. “It was nice meeting you guys.”

Without waiting for a response, Edward turned and left. A singular moment of a moment: that was all Edward had given himself to prepare to face whatever life dared to throw at him again. One day, Roy wouldn’t simply give him more time; he would shove more time down Edward’s throat, making sure the man knew that he could let his guard down without anything terrible happening to him.

As soon as Edward was out of earshot, the chatter began.

“What was that all about?” Fuery.

“I think he was seriously going to hit you, Colonel!” Havoc.

“Looks like you’d better watch yourself tonight.” Breda.

Falman and Hawkeye didn’t say anything, but their amusement over this was just as obvious as if they had voiced it like the others. Roy resisted the urge to sigh.

“Let’s go, Maes.”

Roy walked out of the room after his housemate without another word. He could deal with (and by deal he did mean shut down) his team’s curiosity the next day. Right now, he was just happy that Maes had rescued him from the paperwork he had been neglecting. And with Edward Elric waiting for him, why in the world would he want to waste time answering their questions?

Maes’ parting words sounded from behind, and he quickly caught up to Roy.

“You _have_ his attention, you know. You’re living with him.”

Maes’ words were quiet and more than entertained.

He was referring, of course, to the way that Roy antagonized Edward. It was rare that Roy actually tried to irritate Edward as much as he had a few minutes before, but it was either that or set Havoc on fire. Roy was a naturally jealous, possessive man. He wanted Edward’s attention, all of it, for himself, and the only way he had found to do that thus far was to make the man angry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Roy deadpanned the words, and Maes’ grin got a little wider.

“Of course you don’t.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they made the familiar trek through the corridors. It was tradition for Roy to come over for dinner every other Friday, though Edward joining certainly wasn’t an unpleasant addition. As they reached the parking lot, Roy spotted the blonde leaning against Maes’ car, and, with a nod, Roy moved towards his own vehicle. Maes paused Roy’s leave with a sentence, though he, himself, was already walking towards Fullmetal.

“And make sure to leave that book in your car. I don’t want to be there when Ed finds out you took it.”

The smile was obvious in his tone, even if Roy couldn’t see it. Roy continued on to his car, the very book Maes was referring to tucked safely in the waist of his jacket.

It was the reason they had taken so long in the office. Maes had spotted the unfamiliar journal and questioned him on it soon after asking Hawkeye to give them a moment alone. Well, he had less questioned Roy about the journal itself and more why he had it. It had taken Maes only seconds to note the journal amidst the stacks of papers and identify it as Edward’s.

It wasn’t as though Roy had planned on taking the journal that morning. He had glanced at it when Edward was getting ready, flipping through the first couple of pages of intricate notes with only mild understanding.

When Edward had left without so much as glancing at it, the temptation had been too great. He slipped it into his jacket before walking out. Roy had been running over the notes all throughout the day. It caused quite a few more shots to be fired, but they were worth it.

Roy had been… well, surprised wasn’t the right word.

He knew that Edward was brilliant. That was never in question. The contents of the journal were far above anything Roy could have come up with though. Some things were simple or at least common enough that Roy had been able to easily follow along, some Roy had never even heard the components of, and some just looked like random thoughts. They didn’t start or lead anywhere, just existed.

Roy, determined to comprehend what was written, only got through half of the journal. If some of Edward's theories were correct, and Roy wouldn’t be surprised if they were, then Edward could probably change the way that some alchemy was taught.

Of course, he didn’t tell Maes that. He had thought about playing coy over the entire ordeal, as Maes already knew the main points of the situation and thereby left little need for conversation, but Roy had never been one to waste resources.

“How long has he been doing this?”

Roy tapped on the cover of the journal with the butt-end of his pen. Maes hummed, his smile playful.

“Years. He got into the habit while out in the field, but he’s been doing it more often since he was forced into the academy. I think it’s so that he can communicate more easily with his brother, but I haven’t asked.”

Maes loved it when Roy asked about Fullmetal. He often called Edward “Roy’s Gracia”, and any time Roy actually voiced any sort of interest in the blonde, Maes got giddy. It wasn’t as though Roy had ever actually voiced that he wanted Edward. His best friend just knew him well enough to see the subtle signs. That, and Maes had been waiting for the moment when Roy would get serious about a romantic interest for years. Roy had agreed to enough blind dates to last a lifetime thanks to that.

His interest had been purely political at first. Having the Alchemist of the People on his side would do very well for his image. Then he had actually met the man. Well, Ed had only been a boy at the time, but that wasn’t the point.

Edward had walked up to him, a sixteen year old freshman who wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by Roy or the gaggle of people around him. He was short with an obnoxiously red, hooded cloak making him stick out even more than his clearly brash attitude would have. Long blonde hair was pulled back into a neat braid that somehow added to Edward’s masculinity, and a part down the middle left shaggy blonde bangs framing his face.

Golden hair made golden eyes stand out more, immediately giving Roy knowledge of the boy’s Xerxecian ancestry, but Roy was more interested in the way Fullmetal was acting. Edward had an eager look in his eyes that made everything on Roy’s political agenda easier. It was a look Roy loved.

He gave his most charming smile, made his voice as kind and genuine as could possibly be faked, and asked if there was anything he could do to help.

It was at that point that Edward’s experience showed how much older he was than his age, and Roy was blacklisted from befriending the elder Elric. Edward’s eyes lost their star-struck quality, instead turning cold and disenchanted. It took Roy a few more tries to realize the problem wasn’t that his charm had been off or that Edward preferred a different type of friend. The problem was that Edward couldn’t be tricked.

He could see the words behind Roy’s words and the intention behind the actions. It wasn’t always clear to Edward what Roy actually wanted, obviously, but he always knew the gist of it. He always knew when he was being played.

It was then that Roy became _interested_.

Months later, Maes was willing to categorize that interest as romantic. Months after that, Roy was willing to agree with him.

And now, it was finally time to act on that interest. Edward was eighteen, and he was more than desirable. He didn’t have the strongest Core in the world, no, but he was strong. He was handsome, willful, brilliant, talented, and frankly enchanting. Edward had more than his fair share of men and women who were interested in him, and the second he left town again, single and oblivious to romantic advances, Roy wouldn’t be able to protect him.

Here, no one would touch Edward. Roy had made his interest clear. He paid special attention to the young man so that others would know he fell under Roy’s protection. He did all of this, of course, without Fullmetal’s knowledge. Most people adhered to the warning.

Some people, like Scar, approached him anyway. Fortunately, Edward had no sense of decorum when he did eventually notice people’s attention, and Roy had gotten to witness his competition’s brutal rejection firsthand.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to avoid that same strand of merciless rejection himself.


	6. Chapter Six

Roy took off his jacket as he exited the car, making sure the journal was safely tucked away inside before folding it again as an extra precaution and putting it on his seat. Roy was only steps behind Edward and Maes as they entered the house. They were immediately greeted by the sound of small feet running across hardwood floors and a singular word being chanted like a mantra.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

Elicia ran into the room as fast as her short legs could carry her, thin arms immediately wrapping around her father’s neck. Maes, of course, wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around in circles while complimenting every possible part of her. As soon as she was set on her feet, she dizzily turned her attention elsewhere.

“Good evening, Uncle Roy!”

She moved forwards, wrapping her arms around his waist in a quick hug before diverting her attention again and, in a much higher voice, “Ed!”

Elicia ran just as quickly to Edward as she had to Maes, Roy was sure. Edward’s irritated demeanor was immediately replaced with a kind smile and soft eyes as he crouched on the ground to receive her hug.

“Hey, El. How’ve you been?”

Edward pulled back, and Elicia grinned brightly at him.

“You haven’t visited in _forever_! Did you go on another trip?”

Edward opened his mouth, but the answer seemed to lose its importance as she moved onto another topic.

“Your hair’s gotten so long! Is mine gonna be this pretty when I get older?”

She tugged on his braid, running her fingers through its loose end-hairs and his bangs. Fullmetal chuckled, moving his hands to pick her up and place her on his hip a moment later.

“Even prettier. Though I think you’re probably just about there already. In fact, I’m getting a little jealous.”

He ran his hand through her hair with a teasing smile on his face. Apparently, when children were concerned, it didn’t matter who was around.

Maes grinned at the sight before catching Roy’s eye and lifting the grocery bags. Then he departed for the kitchen. Roy watched Edward interact with Elicia for another few seconds before following Maes. As much as he loved watching Edward play, and he really did enjoy it, this wasn’t his place.

Not yet, anyhow.

“Oh, Roy. I’m glad you could make it. Is Elicia…”

Gracia trailed off, her ever-pleasant smile firmly in place.

“With Fullmetal.” Roy paused. “He’s good with kids.”

Gracia took the meat out of its packaging as she responded, her voice as sweet as physically possible while remaining genuine.

“Most definitely. Elicia’s quite taken with him. She chatters on for days after he’s visited. He has this- this _way_ with her. It’s almost like they’re actually siblings.”

Siblings. That made sense. She would be only a few years younger than Alphonse when they had lost their mother. A few years younger than when they had risked their lives – lost parts of Edward’s body – trying to bring her back. Edward had a protective nature without linking the person he was protecting to his brother.

It might not have been that he was particularly good with children, but particularly good with family.

“Maybe they’ll fall in love when she gets old enough.” Maes grinned too widely. “I mean, he’s a little old for her _now_ , but twelve years doesn’t mean all that much when you’re an adult, and Ed would make a perfect son-in-law.”

Roy scoffed good-naturedly while Gracia laughed. Like hell Roy would wait for his competition to _grow up_.

“I’m gonna marry Ed?”

Elicia caught the attention of the room with wide eyes and a tone filled with wonder. Apparently, whatever the actual answer was didn’t matter as she turned excitedly to the man she was currently holding hands with.

“ _We’re gonna get married!”_

The words were practically squealed, and Edward gave a nervous laugh while Maes hurried over to snatch his darling daughter off the ground.

“Now, now, sweetie. You can’t marry Ed just yet. Right now, you have to stay with Mommy and Daddy! Boys are a no-no!”

Maes’ words were rushed, and Elicia pouted.

“But Daddy, I _am_ staying with you! Ed would move here.”

She ended the sentence with a reassuring smile that Roy was sure she had learned from her mother, causing Maes to practically overload on love. Edward’s nervous laugh entered the air again, and Roy smirked.

“Well, I suppose you’re all set then. Congratulations on your new husband.”

Roy’s encouragement earned him a laugh, a glare, a whine, and a thank you. One thing was for sure: Elicia was absolutely thrilled with having Roy’s intended as her own. She wriggled out of her father’s arms and made her way back to Edward, happily gripping his cloak. Fullmetal sighed before placing his hand on the eight year old’s hair.

“So, how’s dinner coming along?”

Gracia smiled at the change in topic while Maes curled into a ball on the floor, muttering something about his perfect daughter being stolen away by alchemists.

“It’ll be finished in just a bit. Would you mind setting the table?”

She tossed a smile over her shoulder, still stirring whatever was on the stove, and Edward nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

His hand left Elicia’s hair, and Edward went over to the cabinets to retrieve the necessary dinner implements, handing the cups to his new fiancée before leaving for the dining room. Roy, Gracia, and Maes waited in amiable silence, listening to Elicia’s chatter and Edward’s random inputs from the other room.

It was nice. In this little house, at least for the night, there were no feuds or wars to worry about; no political schemes to defend against. This, not his midnight adventures with various men and women, was how he preferred to unwind.

“Boys, would you mind grabbing something on your way?”

Gracia picked up a bowl of broccoli, Maes went for the casserole, and Roy grabbed the salad bowl and pitcher of sweet tea. The table had been nicely set up, Fullmetal already in his chair and Elicia in the one next to him. She had pulled it as close to her future husband as she could get and was staring at him with stars in her eyes.

“…but it turns out that the priest was actually one of the bad guys, which shows you can’t trust someone just because of his or her position.”

“Except State Alchemists!”

“No, not even State Alchemists. There are bad people out there, El, and you can only judge whether or not they’re bad or good by what you see and hear and feel, not what they wear.”

Everything was set on the table while he talked, and Edward looked up from the little girl to nod thankfully to Gracia. Then Elicia pulled his attention back.

“What about Uncle Roy? Daddy says you two fight a lot. He’s still good, right?”

Edward grimaced. He clearly didn’t like where the conversation had gone but, with an almost pained look at Roy, spoke again.

“Musta— _Uncle Roy_ and I do fight a lot, but that’s just because some people just don’t mix very well. It doesn’t matter whether he likes me or not though because he loves _you_ very, very much. If you’re ever in trouble, you run to him as fast as your legs can take you, and he’ll keep you safe, alright?”

Edward’s voice was so serious, filled with so much conviction, that Roy couldn’t calculate the right reaction to the words if he tried. Whatever their differences were, Edward held some sort of respect for (enough respect to entrust his little sister’s life to) Roy. It made something warm in Roy’s chest, where all he wanted to do was reach across the table and pull Edward to him. Just to feel the blonde in his arms.

“Okay.”

Elicia nodded, most likely not entirely sure why it was so important but knowing that it was. Edward grinned at her agreement.

“Great. Then let’s dig in!”

Roy didn’t miss how Edward avoided looking at him after his speech. Roy didn’t comment, either. It was near the end of dinner, in the middle of Elicia talking about the sleepover she had went to, when she paused and turned to Edward again.

“Are we going to bond, too? Mary Lou says that alchemists bond with the people they love, not just get married.”

She had wide, curious eyes, and as Edward opened his mouth but made no sound, Roy decided to be the good guy and save him.

Just this once.

“We have to find out of you have a Core first, Elicia. And if you do, it’ll depend on what type of Core you have, too. Some of them don’t bond well together.”

Pretty green eyes blinked at Roy’s explanation.

“Is that why you aren’t bonded yet, Uncle Roy? ‘Cause your Core is picky?”

Gracia laughed merrily, choosing to step in and save Roy.

“I think it’s just about time we got ready for bed; leave the boys to talk for a bit.”

Elicia ‘aww’-ed at her mother’s words, but she didn’t argue. Instead, like the little angel Maes always claimed her to be, Elicia hugged Edward, Roy, and Maes before collecting her dinnerware and leaving for the kitchen with her mother, bidding them all good night. The room fell into a comfortable silence as they finished eating. Surprisingly, it was Edward who broke that silence.

Even more surprisingly, he broke it by speaking to Roy.

“What’s it like?”

Obsidian eyes met golden, and Roy cocked a brow in question.

Edward didn’t speak again for a moment, and Roy thought he might be pretending he had never spoken at all when the blonde continued: “Being able to bond with whoever you want.”

Maes stilled, watching them both closely, and Roy knew that this was a problem they both knew about. Edward was… insecure?

“Not much different than you, I’d wager.” Roy sipped his wine, leaning back to feel the material of his military uniform pressing against him where he had hung it over the chair earlier. “My Core makes it easier for me to bond, but if it’s someone you should actually bond with, he’s not going to turn you down just because the process is a little harder. You _can_ bond with whoever you want, Fullmetal. You just have to be willing to go for it.”

Whatever Roy had said, it didn’t appear to be what Fullmetal wanted to hear.

The blonde gave a knowing, bitter, sad smile that Roy didn’t understand at all while Maes looked at Edward with a painful amount of sympathy. It all made Roy want to step farther into Edward’s business than he was allowed.

In class, Edward had said he didn’t plan on bonding, but his emotions didn’t match up with his words. Fullmetal wanted to bond, there was just something… preventing it. Something Maes knew.

Maes also knew about Roy’s intent to bond with Edward though, and he had never mentioned this problem before. That meant both that Maes had only recently come across the information and that it was something Maes found too delicate to share.

“Thanks, Mustang. I’ve got the dishes.”

Fullmetal gathered the rest of the dishes, leaving the drinks behind, and made his way into the kitchen. Roy turned straight to his best friend.

“Maes.” _What’s going on?_

“Yes, Roy?” _I can’t say._

“How’s work?” _Does anyone else know?_

“I’ve got a lead, but there are only a few angles to work with.” _Yes, but not many._

Not many in Maes-speak meant one or two, at most. That meant Alphonse and possibly their blonde, mechanic friend, Winry. Basically, this meant that if Roy wanted to know, he was going to have to find out on his own.

Roy swished his wine around in the glass before downing the last of it.

“Who are you planning on taking to the military ball? I’m taking my beautiful wife and gorgeous daughter, of course, but you’ve got to be a little more careful about it. The Führer’s going to be there, and all eyes are going to be on you two. For all the people shooting for his job, you’re looking like the hardest hitting competition.”

It was good news, of course, but that meant Roy was going to be targeted even more harshly than before, this time by the Führer himself.

“Maybe Cora. She would dazzle the masses.”

“Maybe. But only the masses. The higher-ups would see right through her.”

She was charming, not smart. Roy went through his mental black book.

“I could always go alone; show my dedication to work.”

Everyone loved a hard worker. Maes just hummed again, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling.

“You could do that, but what about—”

Maes stopped talking as Gracia entered the room making a soft shushing noise.

She had on a smile that only mothers could wear, and she was motioning for them to look into the living room. Roy exchanged a glance with Maes before they both stood and did as she suggested.

There was nothing out of the ordinary about the living room, with the exception of the blonde sleeping soundly on the couch. He was different from when Roy had seen him in the infirmary.

Fullmetal looked far more relaxed (more natural) than before. His head was propped awkwardly on the couch arm, braid hanging lazily over his shoulder. His body was still half-seated, letting Roy know that he hadn’t intended to fall asleep, and Roy was forced to wonder just how long it had been since Fullmetal had slept just to sleep instead of passing out from exhaustion.

“Looks like it’s time you two headed home.”

Maes whispered the words in Roy’s ear, and Roy gave a ghost of a nod. He moved to shake Edward awake, much like he had that morning, before hesitating. Fullmetal was an extremely heavy sleeper with mild insomnia. If Roy woke him here, there was a good chance he would just stay up the rest of the night reading.

Thinking once more on how exhausted Edward had been earlier that day, Roy made a decision and changed his movements to hook his arms under Edward’s knees and upper back. He was careful not to jostle Edward as he started to pick him up, but it turned out not to be a problem as Edward immediately curled into him.

With Edward in his arms, in the safety of Maes’ home, Roy took the time to appreciate just how much heavier Edward was than he looked.

Roy understood that the automail was bound to be at least sixty pounds, but Edward himself was nothing but a bundle of muscle, so instead of the hundred and sixty or so pounds Roy expected, he got more around two hundred and ten or twenty.

If he was being honest, he really liked that surprise. Fullmetal was sturdy; he was well-built and could handle the roughness that came along with a life beside of Roy.

Edward twisted his fingers into Roy’s white shirt, his nose pressed into the crook of Roy’s neck, and something inside of Roy sparked at the contact.

Roy closed his eyes to compose himself.

They had a _connection_. Roy wasn’t sure what it was, but no one else (and he had plenty of partners to compare) made him feel the way that Edward did. No one else caused desire to burn through his blood just by touching him. No one else sparked his interest or called him out on his games.

There was no one else who was so brutally honest and brash, who cared so little about what other people thought, that Roy knew he wasn’t being charmed for his position.

Fullmetal was the first person Roy had even considered bonding with, and every day they spent together, the more sure he became. They weren’t incredible friends, but that was because Edward had a blockade up around him, not for lack of compatibility. Roy just had to break down those walls.

The rewards were bound to be well worth the efforts.

Maes grinned but didn’t say anything before disappearing back into the kitchen and reappearing with Roy’s uniform jacket folded over his forearm.

“Thank you for dinner. It was delicious as usual.”

Roy doubted that speaking in a normal tone of voice would wake Edward, but he preferred to be cautious. Gracia smiled back, walking across the room to open the door for them.

“You know you’re always welcome in our home, Roy. The same goes for Edward, of course.”

She smiled kindly, and Roy nodded before walking out the door, Maes close behind. The bespectacled man reached into Roy’s jacket pocket to fetch the keys and unlocked the door for him before opening that as well.

Roy carefully situated Edward in the seat before buckling him in, and the blonde immediately leaned more towards the door; more towards Roy. He closed the door gently, and Maes handed him his jacket. Before Roy could move to get into the car as well, his best friend placed a hand on his bicep, catching his attention for something more than a simple goodbye.

“Think carefully on your partner for the ball, okay?”

Then he let go, turning around and putting his hand up in a lazy goodbye as he walked back into his home.

Roy got the message loud and clear. He slid into his seat, noting that Edward’s body shifted towards him again, and started the car.

Edward had done that the night before as well: shifted closer after falling asleep. The Colonel had chosen not to comment on the staring, and he had been right to do so as Edward had fallen asleep like that. It had been an equally correct choice to leave him there once he had finished, thereby forcing the younger man to ride to school with him.

They pulled smoothly into the driveway, and, as Roy lifted Edward back out of the vehicle, he wondered how the Fullmetal Alchemist had survived this long.

Unless he felt the same spark that Roy did.

That would explain why he was so defensive around the Colonel: he felt the attraction banging at his walls and was afraid to lose his bearings to it. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t wake up at a stranger literally picking him up, it was that his Core was putting off the same feeling of safety that Roy felt around him. He felt safe with Roy.

Except when he was awake, but that was another matter entirely.

Roy tucked the theory away for further examination as he stepped around the mess of what could once have been called his library. Once he had finished maneuvering across the room, he placed Fullmetal softly on the bed, pulling the covers up over his prone form a second after.

The thought of taking the combat boots off had crossed his mind, but there were two issues: 1) There was a good chance not even Fullmetal would sleep through that. 2) If Roy was going to undress the prodigy, he wouldn’t stop with shoes.

So, with a last look at his sleeping housemate, Roy left the room and traveled back down to his car. His jacket and coat were collected easily, and he was careful to place the journal exactly how he had found it before going up the steps and into his room.

It would take a lot of maneuvering and manipulation to get Edward to attend the ball with him, but he already had a few ideas on how to make it happen. Checking to see that it was still somewhat early – only ten thirty – Roy picked up the phone in his room and dialed the number most likely to get him what he wanted.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed woke up slowly and comfortably.

He hadn’t dreamt any of his usual nightmares about what may have happened had he not shoved Al far enough out of the way of the Gate or of the horrors he had seen on his journeys. He wasn’t torn between returning to the world of sleep because his body needed anything it could get and waking up to escape from his past.

Instead, he awoke in a light haze with a warmth in his chest that he wasn’t used to. Ed rolled over, his hands fisting themselves comfortably in the blanket covering him.

Maes and Gracia were so nice. Though it was odd for him to crash on the couch and sleep through Elicia waking up, and pancakes were usually a Sunday morning treat, not Saturday. Ed reached out his hand, feeling the rest of the bed for his—

Bed?

Golden eyes snapped open to see the library, and Ed went through the different ways he could have gotten here, none of them very probable. Not that it mattered much.

He grabbed a pair of boxers, black shorts, and a black tank before making his way to Mustang’s room. He didn’t bother knocking, as the man was obviously downstairs making pancakes, and walked straight to the bathroom.

Ed stripped and undid his braid, stepping under the hot stream of water with a pleasant sigh. He washed his hair and body, freely using Mustang’s overly expensive soaps, before getting out and drying himself off. He slipped on his clothes, bundling the others in his arm to drop off at his room on the way down.

When Ed got to the kitchen, he picked up a pancake from the plate next to the stove and sat down in front of his books.

Where did the great Roy Mustang learn how to make such great pancakes? Though blueberry pancakes were his favorite, so that probably made Ed bias.

“Hey, you mind if I use your phone? I need to call Maes and thank him for bringing me back here.”

Ed had been living there for more than a week, yes, but he was still a guest. Mustang half-turned away from the stove, a bored, half-curious look on his face.

“What makes you think it was Maes?”

There was nothing patronizing about his tone, but it was simultaneously interested and knowing, giving Ed the knowledge that what he had labeled as the least-likely scenario was what had occurred.

The warmth in his chest from the night before shot to his face, and Ed couldn’t make himself stop staring at his superior officer. He had slept in the bed that he had borrowed from Mustang because he was in Mustang’s house because Mustang had fucking _carried_ him to said bed. From Maes’ house, nonetheless! Not just up the fucking stairs; across the fucking city. The use of a car didn’t matter.

Ed swallowed thickly, opening his mouth twice before finally speaking.

“Why? Maes would’ve let me crash on his couch. Or you could have woken me up.”

There was a large, embarrassed part of Ed that never wanted to speak to Mustang again, but there was a larger part that wanted answers.

“You don’t sleep much. I figured if I woke you up, you’d stay that way. It’s not healthy.”

He flipped the pancake without a spatula, and Ed frowned.

“You sound like Al. My sleeping habits are fine.”

“I’m not trying to lecture you, Fullmetal. I’m just explaining why I chose not to wake you.”

Mustang sounded like he was explaining something simple to a child, and Ed hated that it wasn’t uncalled for.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Ed wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the ordeal, but his mother had taught him to show gratitude before she had passed, and that had stuck.

“Oh, it wasn’t for free.” Mustang carried over the plate of pancakes after turning off the stove. “In return, I’d like you to help me with the paper due for Advanced Construction of Transmutation Circles.”

As odd as it sounded, the price helped Ed relax. He was used to exchanging favors and nothing being for free, especially from Mustang. All the recent, seemingly random acts of niceness had been throwing him off.

“Oh. Sure. What part are you struggling with?”

Mustang didn’t bother to hide his pleased smile at the easy acceptance, causing Ed to roll his eyes.

“Honestly? All of it. I’ve done the research, and we both know I can string words together with the best of them—”

Ed interrupted Mustang’s ego-stroking with a dull, “Silver-tongued bastard,” that his commanding officer ignored entirely.

“—but the overall act of constructing transmutation circles escapes me.”

Mustang sounded bored, as though he didn’t really care about the concepts and just wanted a grade, but Ed knew that Mustang wasn’t one to let things get the best of him. He didn’t want words to reiterate on paper; he wanted to understand.

“Well, what about your gloves?”

Ed nodded towards Mustang’s ever-gloved hands.

Ed had only ever seen beneath the gloves twice, though that probably had a lot to do with the transmutation circle carved into the back of his hand. Ed had more than enough experience with scars to know that some of them just weren’t meant for the eyes of the public.

Mustang glanced down at the gloves as Ed picked up his third pancake, eating it like a cookie.

“What about them?”

“They’re not like other fire-focused circles. You made them, or at least modified them to your benefit. It’s hard to tell most of the time, but I’ve studied a lot of fire-centered arrays, and most either aren’t so combat oriented or are less vague.”

Ed rambled off his reasoning without really thinking about it. The Colonel wasn’t being too irritating at the moment, and it was rare that the man admitted to not being able to do something, no matter how he played it off.

“They’re different. You can’t just construct a circle at random. You need a purpose.”

Mustang explained why his transmutation circles were somehow the exception to the rule, and Ed shrugged.

“Nah. You’ve just got tunnel vision. Don’t think about creating an actual transmutation circle, just think about the process. What are the three essential parts of any array?”

Ed stared at dark eyes expectantly, pleased when Mustang actually took the time to think about his answer.

“The size of the outermost circle, the runes, and the concentration.”

Unfortunately, Mustang sounded just as confident as he would have in class, and Ed rolled his eyes.

“First off, drop the act. I know you’ve got a god-complex to rival an actual god, but if you don’t know the answer, it doesn’t help anything to pretend like you do.”

Ed picked up one of the books he had been referencing in his latest theory and flipped to a page with multiple circles before sliding it over next to Mustang’s plate. The older man took his time dropping their staring contest before pushing his now-empty plate away and moving the book to a better position.

“Secondly, you’re right about the runes, but the other two are off. What are the commonalities in all of those circles?”

Ed paused to let Mustang look them over, hesitating for only a moment before deciding he had room for a fourth pancake and taking another. For all of Mustang’s faults, he was a fantastic cook.

“I’m not seeing any other important commonalities aside from the ones I named, Fullmetal.”

Mustang didn’t look up when he spoke, but his tone wasn’t as blindly confident as his previous response.

Ed stuffed the last of his food in his mouth before scooting his chair backwards and moving to stand behind Mustang, much like he would have his brother. He swallowed as he leaned over the other soldier’s shoulder, careful not to touch lest his Core act up again but still close enough to point things out in the book. Which is exactly what he did, arm extending over the Colonel’s with only a few inches of space separating metal from cloth.

He was naturally left-handed, yes, but it was safer to use his automail when playing with fire.

“Look at the lines. The amount of lines usually depicts how complicated or fixated on a certain subject the circle will be.” His hand moved over to point to the runes, and Ed could see the cloth of Mustang’s uniform wrinkle as it brushed against Ed’s forearm even if he couldn’t feel it. “Next, like you said, are the runes. What they are help to define the purpose of the circle and how many usually corresponds with the number of lines.”

Ed’s hand moved a final time, now to the bottom of the page so that he could reach one of the better-drawn circles. That small adjustment shifted Ed the centimeter and a half needed to smell the conditioner in Mustang’s hair. The blonde hesitated a moment as he realized that he had used the Colonel’s shower products and smelled the same, then continued explaining.

“Lastly, the words written within the circle, usually in Latin, tell how flexible the alchemy activated will be.”

Mustang tensed a little, and Ed waited to see what the older man would say. Dark, intelligent eyes turned to face Edward, though the rest of him stayed perfectly still, and the cue to keep going was loud and clear.

Ed pursed his lips as he wondered how he could explain what, exactly, the words did. Mind no longer focused on anything outside of the academic realm, Ed moved again to trace the words placed inside of the intricate circle.

“This one is for creating a large-scale water purifier. It’s pretty specific, down to how large the body of water can be.” Ed’s hand moved to Mustang’s, which was sitting right beside of his own, and adjusted it so that the transmutation circle on the back of his glove was showing. “Your circle is designed without words because you need to be able to control how much fire you create.”

Ed’s automail pointer finger went around the circle once for emphasis.

“It’s always varying, so you can’t afford to complicate the circle, even if it might make it more powerful. Usually this would be a hindrance, as most people don’t have either the power or the control to get positive results with such little guidance.”

Ed paused, half forgetting that Mustang was there, and his finger went around the circle once more as he studied it more intensely.

“It might be easier for you because of your Core affiliation, but this takes more focus than raw power. I wouldn’t be surprised if it got harder to control after you came into your Inheritance instead of easier.”

Ed had more to say on the subject, but his ramblings ended as quickly as he could realize what he had said. There was no way to tell which of them had tensed more, but Ed was willing to bet it was a close match.

He had the urge to move away and change the topic, act as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, but it would be both tactless and put him in a much harder position of having armed Mustang with the knowledge that he was hiding more than just having known about the Inheritance.

All he could do for now was wait for Mustang to react. For a moment, Ed thought that Mustang was going to give him the grace of not looking him in the eyes (they both knew he was a terrible liar), and then the Colonel turned his entire upper body to face Ed. Their shoulders touched, and Mustang’s face was a few centimeters away, at most.

Ed’s Core sparked too-pleasantly at the contact.

“What makes you think I’ve already come into my Inheritance?”

Mustang’s tone was light, but his eyes were dangerous.

Ed tried not to panic. If he told the truth, he was done for. If he lied, Mustang would know and call him out on it, leading to suspicion and tact which would then lead to the truth. So, he would have to stick to a half-truth.

“I was in the room when you went through it.” Ed paused, saw that Mustang wasn’t budging, and continued, “Maes found me after class ended and we talked for a while. I felt… off, and he convinced me to go to the infirmary. He knew I wouldn’t tell, and I haven’t. Your secret is safe.”

Ed couldn’t afford to back off. He needed Mustang to believe him. Not only his future, but Al’s depended on it.

Mustang moved even closer, if possible, never breaking eye contact as he stared into Ed’s fucking _soul_ , and Ed narrowed his eyes, daring Mustang to question his story. The staring contest lasted another full minute before Mustang stood, easily moving Ed out of his way before going to the fridge and pouring himself a glass of milk.

“I believe you.”

Mustang turned around and leaned against the fridge, glass held idly in his hand. Ed blinked, not entirely sure he trusted it to be that simple.

“You do?”

“You have no reason to lie to me.”

Mustang's assurance was so smooth that Ed had to physically stop himself from cringing.

“No, I don’t.”

Ed being uncomfortable with flat-out lying to people’s faces wasn’t a reason to risk Al’s safe, peaceful life. Ed had given up too much to lose the game now.

Mustang drained the rest of his glass before walking around Edward to pick up his plate and put them both in the sink.

“Then we don’t have a problem. I trust you to keep this matter discrete.” Mustang checked his watch with an air of importance about him before meeting Ed’s eyes again. “It’s about time I leave for work. We can continue this,” Mustang’s gloved hand – the one Ed had just been handling as he pleased – waved lazily at the books, “when I get back.”

And then, as though Ed hadn’t just divulged information that could have ruined his plans, Mustang walked out the door, pausing only to grab his sleek, black petty coat and keys.

Ed knew he should be thankful that he had come out of that with the Colonel none-the-wiser, but there was a burning in the back of his mind that this wasn’t over yet.

Nothing was that easy when it came to Roy Mustang.


	7. Chapter Seven

As soon as Roy reached his office and the door closed safely behind him, he called his best friend.

Edward and Maes’ stories for the infirmary visit didn’t match up, and neither were the forgetful type. That meant that one of them, or more likely both of them, were lying.

Maes had pointed out that he didn’t want to lie to Roy, to which Roy had immediately assumed he shouldn’t ask about his Inheritance, but it seemed as though that statement had been meant for information on Fullmetal as well.

Maes had warned him knowing what conclusion Roy would jump to, but the warning had been there.

Roy wasn’t angry about the lies. No, those were expected in this line of work. All he wanted was for Maes to know what cards were on the table so that Roy could get the most out of his sources.

Well, Roy wanted to hint at what cards _might_ be on the table and see if anything would slip. It was a long-shot with Maes, but Roy hadn’t gotten this far by playing it safe.

“Intelligence Department; Hughes speaking.”

Roy leaned back in his chair as he heard the usual greeting, well-prepared to play the game with his best friend.

“Maes.”

“Roy! Are you calling because you realized that you forgot to take home the newest pictures of my perfect little angel last night?”

Roy waited patiently as Maes chattered away, knowing the other man was moving to a more secluded location.

“I mean, I know you had your hands full last night – no pun intended – so I can understand how you could forget, but I can’t imagine the distress you must be in not being able to look at her smiling face every day!”

Roy glanced at his bottom-left desk drawer, knowing an updated picture of Maes and his family was currently lying inside without having to open it.

“Don’t worry, I always carry a few extra pictures in my wallet. I can give you the one where she’s—no, that’s one of my favorites. How about the one where—ah, but she’s too cute in that to part with it! Oh, I know! You can take—”

Positive that Maes had plenty of time to isolate himself, Roy interrupted freely.

“You lied about why Fullmetal was in the infirmary.”

The other line immediately went silent, and Roy waited for a clue to what had actually happened. Maes was nowhere near green enough to panic and spill the whole truth, but he would want to test the waters. They both wanted to know what the other knew, and that required giving a little.

“What did he tell you?”

Cautious, not denying or apologetic. Maes knew when he was caught, and they both knew that lying was just a part of the trade sometimes. It was unfortunate when the trade had to be between them, but understandable.

“He wasn’t sick when he agreed to go with you.”

Roy’s tonee alluded to their being more, but he stopped there. Fullmetal had said that he had felt off, but not sick, and Roy was willing to bet that was Edward’s way of lying without actually lying. He would see where this bet got him and go from there.

“We both know he won’t tell anyone.”

An excuse, not a reason. Edward knowing about his Inheritance wasn’t what they were hiding. 

Roy knew he was too powerful for it to have gone as easily as it seemed. Maes wouldn’t have let anyone in on Roy’s Inheritance unless he absolutely had to, meaning Maes hadn’t just run into Edward, he had sought the boy out.

“I wasn’t going to make it, was I?”

“No.”

The word was soft and regretful, as though Maes didn’t like that it had ever been a possibility, but Roy couldn’t allow himself to focus on his near-death.

How could Fullmetal have helped with that? Had he developed a new way to force energy to stray from the Core-holder? With his alchemic genius, Roy wouldn’t doubt it, but that wasn’t something to hide. It wasn’t something Maes would lie to him for.

“Fullmetal saved me.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a shot in the dark. Somehow or another, Edward was the reason he had survived.

“Ed didn’t tell you anything, did he?”

It was a rhetorical question if Roy had ever heard one. The Colonel twirled a pen in his hands as he gazed at the paperwork he was half-considering doing.

“Not intentionally. He accidentally let on that he knew I had already gone through my Inheritance, and when I questioned him on it, his story for how he got to the infirmary didn’t match.”

Roy had enough information to build off of. He neither needed nor wanted Maes to break his word and tell the truth.

No, Roy would much rather get his due from the source of it all. Edward was his intended, making his secrets Roy’s as well. It would only be fair for him to find out what, exactly, those secrets were the hard way.

“Look, Roy, I know you’re curious, but… maybe you should let this one go. He’ll tell you if he’s ready.”

If. Not when.

Roy watched the pen spin around his fingers twice more before responding.

“Maybe he’ll tell me at the ball.”

It was an altogether change in topic, not an agreement. Maes went with it.

“He agreed to go with you?”

Maes sounded pleasantly surprised, and Roy allowed his lips to quirk in a genuinely amused smile.

“Something like that.”

“Well, you’ll have to share him for at least one dance. My beautiful Elicia is bound to steal your spotlight and, if she has it her way, your date. Just you wait: she’s going to be the belle of the ball in her beautiful—”

“Goodbye, Maes.”

Roy hung up without waiting for a response.

Roy doubted Edward had just accepted that Roy believed him, but Roy wouldn’t be bringing the issue up again anytime soon, so it didn’t much matter.

It may not seem like much, but he had made progress with Edward, and that wasn’t something he was about to backtrack on. Fullmetal would be suspicious, but he wouldn’t lash out unless Roy gave him reason to believe that he was going to pry into areas Edward wanted left alone.

Roy was a calculated risk-taker. He wouldn’t let Fullmetal rebuild the wall he had worked so hard to break down. And he _had_ closed some of the distance between them, no matter what Edward would argue. Before this living together ordeal, Edward never would have gotten as close to him as he had while explaining creating transmutation circles.

The way Edward’s automail had brushed against Roy’s arm; the way Edward had traced the array on his glove with such an intense look in his eyes; the way he had complimented Roy’s control— It was almost like Edward was trying to show him what they could have if he played his cards right.

When Edward forgot about his need to be guarded against everyone, Roy could almost taste their future together. It was rare, of course, only minutes at a time, but those minutes were enough.

He didn’t love Fullmetal, but the potential was there.

Speaking of potential, there was a new issue – and thereby a new platform for a solution – brewing in Central’s underbelly.

There were chimeras rumored to have been created in Central, and Roy needed to figure out the quickest way to test the authenticity of the rumor as well as the best way to deal with the chimeras should they be real. The publicity he would receive from eliminating the threat would be extremely helpful, especially if he could do it before the ball.

It was less necessary for the importance of protecting the people (since no attacks had been reported yet) as it was for the pretense of protecting the people. Maes hadn’t been joking when he had said that all eyes would be on Roy and Bradley. The elections were coming up in a short two years, and Roy was a strong candidate to knock the king off of his throne. It would take all of the political prowess he had when considering his age and rank, but the position of Fuhrer was determined by vote, and people were Roy’s forte.

The ball was going to be nothing short of a performance. He had to woo everyone in that room. From reporters to soldiers to their dates to the catering crew; he needed them all to trip over themselves trying to get his attention.

Well, almost everyone.

Edward would probably still be fuming at the fact that he had been manipulated into going in the first place, so Roy couldn’t expect much from him. In all honesty, it would probably be better for Roy if Fullmetal didn’t go at all.

Actually, it would _definitely_ be in his best interest for Edward not to go so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the damage control of a popular figurehead who hated him badmouthing him in front of everyone he needed to impress.

At the same time though, Roy wanted Edward to see him in his element. He wanted Edward to know that even though the blonde could see through his silver-tongue, it wasn’t an average trait. He wanted Edward to be impressed at what Roy could do.

It wasn’t likely that Edward would ever admit to it aloud, but Roy didn’t need the blonde to speak to know what the younger man’s opinion on him was. He wasn’t new to the game. Not the game of reading people. Not the game of courting. Not the game of Edward Elric.

Besides, Fullmetal didn’t like him, but he wouldn’t purposefully ruin Roy’s career. In fact, he might be able to help it.

Roy leaned back as he mulled over the possibility of Edward as a purposeful ally. Fullmetal had been sent on numerous missions involving chimeras. He probably knew more about tracking them down than even the Intelligence Department.

Use every resource, right?

He would have to ask tonight after Edward finished explaining creating transmutation circles. Come tomorrow, the blonde wouldn’t willingly be doing him any favors. Not for a while anyhow.

Luckily, Roy had two lists of priorities (social and business), and Edward was only at the top of one. Equally luckily, the business list was currently more of a priority than the social list, so Roy didn’t really need to Edward to be on speaking terms with him until after the chimera threat was dealt with and the ball had ended.

Bringing him back to the question of who was going to accompany him. He had expressed to Maes that going alone may be the smartest option because it would both make him seem focused on his work and eligible, but it had the double edge of people wondering why he of all people was alone. Plenty of reporters would be there to start rumors, and Roy didn’t need any bad publicity.

So, he needed a date; a classy one. He would cross off everyone that slept with him before the third date and everyone who had gotten into trouble since their last encounter. A charming personality was necessary, so not someone Roy had gone after for the novelty of it. They were all beautiful, eliminating that from the choice process entirely, but there were so many different kinds of beauties that Roy needed to decide which would best suit his purposes.

For starters, did he want a man or a woman?

He had taken a man to the last two formal events, so it would make sense to escort a woman next. Whom though? Keira had an exotic air about her and would draw a pleasant amount of attention to them. Rebecca was a southern belle to the very core and would charm the hell out of anyone who would look in her direction without even meaning to. Lina had a more modern sort of beauty: always keeping up with trends and making sure to impress anyone who laid eyes on her. Ariel—

 _Ariel_. She was a classic, timeless beauty. There was nothing in particular that stood out as her beautifying factor and no way to really categorize her beauty. She could pull off any of the other looks without even trying. It helped that she liked to keep up with politics, as it wouldn’t do to have an idiot at his side.

The company he kept reflected on how people viewed him, after all. Ariel was soft-spoken and polite. She had a rare elegance about her and table etiquette to match Roy’s own. She was perfect.

Decision made, Roy picked up the telephone and dialed a familiar number, waiting only two rings before a melodic voice came through the line.

“Hello?”

“Ariel? This is Roy.”

“Roy? It’s wonderful to hear from you again. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, and as wonderful as it is to hear from you, I was actually thinking I would like to see you again soon.”

Roy tapped his pen on the signature line of the paper in front of him without actually writing anything.

“The ball this Saturday?”

“You know me so well. How does six sound?”

“Six sounds perfect. I’ll see you then.”

Taking the words for the farewell they were, Roy bid her goodbye and hung up. Before he could turn his attention to the chimera reports once more, three sharp knocks sounded at his door and Hawkeye let herself in.

It had crossed his mind once or twice to take her to one of these events, but too many people assumed they were fraternizing already. It would be counter-productive for the both of them to encourage those rumors.

Blue eyes swept over the paperwork which had only increased since he had left the night before, and Roy knew the chimera case would have to wait. First, he would have to placate his childhood friend’s trigger finger. He was sure that she would never actually shoot him, but testing that surety wasn’t on his list of things to do anytime soon.

Or ever, really.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed watched Mustang from across the table. They had been walking through creating transmutation circles for the last hour and a half, and Ed had long since sat his book to the side so that he could properly pay attention to the man across from him. He had attempted to multitask, but that just wasn’t his strong suit, and Mustang had more irritating ways to keep his attention than his book did.

Like igniting the fucking air in front of Ed’s face.

The larger problem with that was that Mustang hadn’t spoken for a good ten minutes, and Ed’s attention was quickly waning.

“Is there anything else, or can I get back to my research?”

If Ed sounded irritated, it was because he was irritated. He had almost gotten his hair singed six damn times for assuming the man was finished digging for information when he wasn’t. Mustang paused in his writing to look at Ed with that stupid fucking calculating look in his eyes.

“How do you track down a chimera?”

For a full minute after the question was posed, Ed did nothing but stare stupidly. After that, his expression morphed into that of closed-off confusion.

“Why? One’s on the loose and you want an extra man on your firing squad?”

Ed’s tone was accusatory, yes, but Mustang didn’t react negatively to his biting suspicion.

“Not exactly.” Mustang set his pen down, and Ed frowned.

“No.”

The word was sharp, making it Mustang’s turn to frown.

“I haven’t said anything yet.”

His voice said Ed was being unreasonable, which irritated Ed more than the initial silence.

“You sat your pen down.” At Mustang’s deadpanned look, Ed explained: “Whenever you’re overly damn confident that things will go your way, you sit your pen down. You used to tap it against whatever you were writing on, but you changed a couple of months back and now you do _that_.”

Ed pointed roughly in the direction of Mustang’s pen before crossing his arms and squaring his shoulders, prepared for whatever bullshit excuse the devil was going to use.

What he wasn’t prepared for was said devil’s lips to twitch upwards. Mustang schooled his expression a split second later, but it didn’t hold as his lips curled into a partial smile once more. This process repeated a final time before the Colonel gave in and allowed a deep chuckle to escape amused lips.

Ed’s first thought was that he had never seen Mustang laugh before. Not a real laugh, anyhow. He had heard plenty of the condescending half-scoff/half-laughs and polite, that’s-not-really-funny-but-you’re-influential chuckles, but never a genuine laugh. The blonde would never admit it aloud, but Mustang had a really nice laugh.

When the Colonel got control of himself, Ed was still staring.

“You really are something, Fullmetal.” Mustang shook his head, expression still clearly amused, “I actually noticed my habit a while back and tried to correct it in public so no one else would see, but it looks like I only succeeded in forming a new one.”

Ed stayed silent, not used to his superior officer speaking so much in one sitting or sharing so much in, well, ever.

“There’s rumor of chimeras being created here in Central. I need to put an end to it, and you’re the one with the most knowledge on them.” Mustang met Ed’s eyes, mirth and something unidentifiable lingering there. “I don’t want you to track them down. I just want some advice on how I should.”

Golden eyes stared, trying to find a lie or some sign of deceit but not seeing anything. After a lengthy silence, Ed looked away, suddenly finding his notebook far more interesting.

“Bring the files home with you tomorrow. I’ll help you figure out how to start tracking, but you’re on your own from there.”

He didn’t really know why he was offering his help, but Ed had never been one to overthink things. He was a man of action.

Mustang had been rather… amicable lately, and Ed wasn’t one to hold a grudge. Well, he was, but Mustang hadn’t actually done anything but be a generalized asshole to Ed. It was hard to keep being crude to someone who was being nice(ish) to him.

“You could always just tell me, you know?”

The teasing tone was back in the Colonel’s voice, and Ed’s eyes shot back to Mustang as he mentally took back what he had thought about the man being nice-ish.

“Yeah, but you’re a bit of a slow learner, so I figured you’d need all the help you can get.”

Ed was quick to jump back into their usual less-than-friendly banter, but his words weren’t quite as biting. Mustang held his hands up in defeat, and Ed couldn’t tell if he was being mocked or not.

“I’ll bring the files tomorrow.”

Mustang still had a ghost of that amused smile on his damnable lips. Ed scoffed lightly, deciding on his own that this conversation was over and picking up his book and notebook to leave. The Colonel made no move to stop him, and Ed went to his room. He stared at his books, contemplating reading some more before setting them on the stack near the door.

Chimeras, huh?

Ed had been on a lot of wild goose chases for chimeras where nothing came of it. He had killed just as many actual chimeras, he was sure.

Slowly, Ed looked down at his hands. They were gloved, white cloth matching perfectly and connecting easily with bright red sleeves. After glancing cautiously at the door twice, Ed tugged his gloves off.

His stomach turned slightly, but he didn’t allow himself to stop there. The cloak slid off next, and his shirt followed soon after. He didn’t hestitate as he crouched to untie and remove his shoes, their formidable weight thumping on the floor before Ed finally let his pants drop and stopped to breathe.

He got into _moods_ sometimes; moods that not even Al had experienced, where Ed had to sit down and just deal with everything he had done in his life. First, he had to look down at himself and see the flesh and metal counterparts. He had to see how different they were and know how they would (should) have been had he not convinced Al to try and bring their mother back.

He had to live with the fact that it could have been so much worse had his reflexes been even the smallest bit slower. He had to live with the fact that he could have killed the only thing he cared about. Being a partially metal side-show attraction didn’t even count as a price when considering his younger brother’s life was what he got to keep in return. No, it was a reminder of what could have been and a motivator to keep what he loved safe.

With Ed’s picky Core, being attractive would have been wasted on him anyhow.

Next, he had to handle what he had done with those mismatched hands. He had personally ended numerous lives. It hadn’t just been chimeras, though he had killed more than his share of those; he generally killed the creators, too. So much blood had been spilled by his transmuted arm or the wreckage his battles caused.

They weren’t good people, no, but murder was still murder.

He couldn’t stop at the blood that had been literally splashed on his hands, either. How many lives had ended because Ed just hadn’t been fast enough or strong enough or smart enough? The one that stuck out the most – the one that always came to mind – was Nina.

Ed had been there, _right there_ , and just let it happen. He had been young and hopeful to redemption and the future, and then reality had brought him to his knees. _Hard_. Nina, sweet, sweet Nina, had died scared and alone in an ally after being betrayed by the one person she had trusted most.

She had died because Ed had been too focused on himself and becoming a State Alchemist.

By this point, Ed was fairly sure it hurt so much because it was his first taste of what would soon surround him on all sides. He had been unprepared, and the blade had dug deep.

Ed had his fair share of scars separate from the scars from his original attempt at human transmutation, of course, but they bothered him less. They were proof of what he had done and what had been done to him. Sometimes, they were what kept him grounded. He had to know that this wasn’t just a nightmare he would wake up from. He had to heal up and move on, and any pain that followed would be his to bear.

Most of the time, Ed could handle it.

He lived in the moment with an awareness of the future, and the past could be learned from but not focused on. He didn’t care about what other people thought. He didn’t care if anyone saw how his past had scarred him, but he wouldn’t let them see him like he was now. He wouldn’t let them see that he couldn’t hold the weight of the world at all points. Ed hadn’t become the man he was without making more than his fair share of enemies.

He didn’t care if he had to stare his past in the face at random intervals and take reality of everything he had done. He would do it all again if it would keep Al safe.

Golden eyes stared down the two startlingly different hands, one a golden tan and the other a sleek silver, and Ed took a deep breath. He had done a lot of things that he wasn’t proud of, but he would move on, and he would be a man that Al would be proud to call Brother. The scars; the metal limbs; the blood staining his very existence: he could live with them. He would be fine.

Ed jolted out of his thoughts when he heard knuckles hitting wood.

“Do you want anything in particular for dinner tomorrow?”

Mustang had been doing all of the cooking (unless one of them decided to eat out), but he hadn’t made a habit of asking Ed for his opinion. The blonde scowled at the older man’s timing, hoping that the Colonel wouldn’t randomly decide to barge in.

“Make whatever you want.”

Ed wouldn’t be surprised if his irritation bled into his voice. Honestly, this sudden niceness was making him paranoid. Mustang had been nothing but kind and accommodating as of late, which meant he was probably trying to tip the balance in his favor in preparation either for something he had already done coming to light or for something he was about to do. Neither bade well for the blonde alchemist.

“Alright. Just thought I’d ask.”

Mustang’s voice sounded like he was really only trying to be nice, and Ed scoffed, crossing his arms over his bare chest without thinking about it.

“Save your manipulating for someone who gives a shit, Mustang.”

A few seconds of silence followed Ed’s statement, and then Mustang spoke again.

“Good night, Fullmetal.”

There was something off about his voice: it was deeper than the moments before. Huskier. There was also the damnable amusement, but that was basically always there, so Ed didn’t much take it into account.

“Night, Bastard.”

Ed heard footsteps retreating from his doorway after the dismissal, and he took one last look at himself before heading over to the bed. He supposed there really wasn’t any reason to worry. If he could handle Mustang, he could handle anything.


	8. Chapter Eight

Ed was furious. No, furious was too tame a descriptor. He was beyond furious. He was _enraged_. His steps were heavy stomps as he marched through Central Command, Al and Winry right behind him.

“Brother, I really don’t think we need to do this.”

“He’s right, Ed. Why don’t we just head back, and we’ll—”

Ed interrupted her, his voice reflecting how he felt as clearly as a mirror.

“No. He’s not getting off the fucking hook this time, Winry. He’s gone too far.”

Before she could respond, Ed made the last turn, flinging open the doors to Mustang’s branch with ease. Breda, Havoc, Fuery, and Falman all looked up, the alarm in their faces and posture fading only slightly as they noted the purest form of anger tensing every muscle in Edward’s body.

Ed marched through the office area without pause, hardly noting that Al and Winry chose to stay at the entrance and stare unsurely at Mustang’s men.

Ed’s hand rose, fingers already curled into a tight fist. He intended to knock, but that seemed far too civil for the conversation he wanted to have. Instead of simply rapping on the door, Ed dropped his arm back to his side, in its place raising his automail leg and kicking the wood as hard as he could. It gave way with ease.

A shot was immediately fired, but Ed’s reflexes took hold, forcing his body to dodge without him even thinking about it.

“Fullmetal, what are you—”

Mustang sounded both confused and slightly irritated. Ed steamrolled him.

“You fucking son of a bitch. I don’t care if you make _me_ move out of my place and uproot _my_ life for your sick fucking amusement, but you leave my family out of it!” He was shouting, and he knew that everyone was listening, but making a scene had never been a problem for Ed. “What the fuck were you thinking bringing Al and Winry here? I’ve got enemies from here to Ishval and you’re just placing them on a train and hoping? You of _all_ people should know what crazy mother fuckers are roaming around out there!”

Ed’s mouth moved without any words coming out for a few seconds, his anger and frustration and worry for what could have been all crushing together for a moment of haziness.

“Damn it, Mustang, _what if something had happened to them_?”

His voice dropped to a whisper, wrath blending together with fear and worry. Ed wasn’t sure what he was going to say next, but he didn’t have to worry about that as Al stepped in.

“Brother, please calm down.”

Al had made his way through the dead silent room to place a hand on Ed’s shaking, flesh shoulder.

“The Colonel didn’t make us come; he invited us. Resembool’s academy is on break this week anyway, and we both wanted to see how you were doing. Plus, Winry is really excited about this dance that—”

Ed turned suddenly, catching Al by surprise as he probably hadn’t expected his words to reach Ed so easily.

“Did you say dance? As in the annual Military Ball?”

Golden eyes widened, most likely because Al rarely ever had Ed’s temper turned on him, and Ed moved his attention back to his housemate. He had gotten all the answers he needed to connect the dots.

“Did you fucking invite them here for the sake of your stupid ball and your damn reputation?”

Ed paused, but Mustang didn’t jump at his chance to explain, and Ed practically snarled, taking a fierce step forward only to have two hands grasp at either of his biceps to physically hold him back.

“Brother, _please_.”

Quite possibly the only thing in the world capable of saving Mustang from Ed’s rage stepped in: Al’s pleading. Two pairs of matching golden eyes met, one set much harsher and more heavily guarded than the other, before Ed moved to stare into obsidian eyes instead.

“Just fucking stay at Maes’ house tonight.”

And then, without giving the bastard a chance to say a word, Ed swung around and marched back out, nudging his brother in front of him and slamming the door behind him.

“Fucking bastard.”

The mutter was almost out of reflex, and Ed glanced around the room to see that everyone was still staring at him. He frowned, anger calming slightly now that he had both said his peace and didn’t actually have anything against anyone in the room.

Seeing nothing else to do, Ed waved a lazy hand in the air with a dull, “Sorry for the interruption,” and left the larger room as well, Al and Winry hot at his heels.

Ed had been more than surprised to get to Mustang’s house after his last class and see his brother and Winry in the kitchen. At first, he had been happy to see them. He loved them, and it had been months since they had been able to find time to get together.

His happiness was quickly overridden by their explanation for how they got in the house involving Mustang hiding a spare key for them.

Mustang had brought them there without Ed’s knowledge. _That_ was why the older man had been so nice as of late. He was making up for the fact that he was doing something Ed definitely wouldn’t like. He was manipulating again.

Just like Ed had said in the bastard’s office: Ed didn’t care if people went after him. He didn’t care if Mustang turned his life upside down. His brother though – the Rockbell family – they were off limits. If something, _anything_ , had happened to them, Ed wouldn’t have been able to live with himself.

His mind raced with the possibilities as they all walked back to Mustang’s place, and it was only after they reached their destination that Ed allowed his walls of fury to drop and the sheer relief to take hold. Ed turned to face his only family and childhood friend, ready to give some sort of half-assed apology for making a scene, when Winry cracked him over the head.

Ed glared as he rubbed the sore spot on his scalp.

“The hell! What was that for?”

“For being a paranoid jerk. You never have time to visit anymore, and the one time we get a chance to come down here, you fly off the handle.” Winry put her hands on her hips, berating Ed as though they were children again. “I don’t expect you to be able to see past your pride to apologize, so I’m not even going to try, but it’s really no wonder you get into trouble so often with a temper like that.”

Winry stuck her tongue out at Ed before waltzing past him and starting to rifle through the kitchen.

“I swear, Ed. It’s like you never left at all. I bet you skipped lunch again for some stupid book, didn’t you?”

She sounded half-exasperated/half-amused, and Ed didn’t have time to defend himself before his stomach growled. Al laughed at Ed’s expense while Winry hummed triumphantly, and Ed couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity of it all.

They were safe, and as long as Ed was around, that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon. Gold met gold again, and Al’s smile matched Ed’s own.

The younger Elric looked around the room, taking everything in.

Al had met Mustang once before this during one of his many dinner nights at Maes’ house while Ed had been on the road, and Ed knew that Al had a fairly high opinion of the man. Al chalked up Ed’s dislike for the Colonel to their personalities mixing like oil and water at most points, but they both knew that the disappointment of Mustang’s Core played its own role in the relationship.

“Brother, didn’t you have some new theories to show me?”

Ed’s eyes lit up at Al’s question, and he was quick to turn and race up the steps, his brother’s much lighter steps right behind him. When Ed opened the door to his room, Al let out a low whistle. “

This is amazing. And he gave you free reign?”

Ed nodded off-handedly.

“Yeah; he pretty much leaves me to my own devices. I don’t know what the bastard wants, but he’s not doing a good job at getting it.”

Ed stepped over the books as he spoke, and Al hummed, a habit he had no doubt picked up from years spent with Winry.

“Have you ever thought that maybe he’s just being nice?”

Ed snorted derisively at Al’s proposal, finished gathering his various journals, and made his way back out of the room. Mustang was just being nice like Ed was best friends with Envy.

“Since you’re in for the week, I’ll show you a few books that should really help your thesis later.”

Ed closed the door behind them, and as the two men made their way down the stairs, a nice aroma was starting to waft out of the kitchen. Ed took his usual spot at the table and Al slid down beside of him. The taller of the two didn’t bother waiting for permission as he grabbed the top journal and started reading.

Al was the one person who picked up on Ed’s thoughts nearly as quickly as Ed did. He thought Ed was brilliant for being able to come up with his theories, never failing to make a sense of pride well up in his chest. Al knew everything that was wrong with Ed, had heard about all of the fucked up shit he had seen and done, and yet he was still able to see Ed in such a positive light.

He still loved Ed.

Winry didn’t even know the tip of the iceberg, but her love still meant more to Ed than he could express. The fact that they could love him. The fact that Maes could love him and Gracia could love him. The way that Elicia adored him, so much like Nina had before her, it all astounded him.

Al though, Al’s opinion of Ed carried the most weight. He knew Ed inside and out. He was even willing to publish Ed’s ideas under his own name, knowing that Ed was torn between the need to get the information out there and his hatred for the fame that would come with publishing.

As much as he didn’t care to make a spectacle of himself, he generally didn’t like being the center of attention. Al fixed all of that by publishing Ed’s works along with his own.

It wouldn’t work if the taller boy didn’t understand the theories and concepts just as well as Ed himself, which sometimes took days or even months, depending on how complicated they were. Al took the time to do it though. Yes, Al loved the theories as much as Ed, but Ed’s theories weren’t Al’s preferred focus. He did it because he loved his older brother.

Ed’s attention snapped back to reality as Winry tugged his right arm up, none-too-gently pulling his cloak sleeve off. He jerked his arm back on instinct.

“What in the world are you doing?”

“Dinner will be ready in ten. In the mean time, I’m going to check out the damage you’ve done to my precious automail.”

She tugged the red cloth from where it opened at his shoulder this time, and Ed leaned more towards Al.

“What makes you think I’ve messed it up? I haven’t done anything remotely dangerous in months.”

“Come on, Brother, she’s only worried about you. Just let her look at it.”

Al, the only mild-mannered of the three, ended the argument where it stood. Ed grumbled as he removed his signature cloak.

“Just don’t fuck it up. I really like this one.”

Ed sneered the words, and Winry snorted, more than used to Ed’s rough mannerisms.

“Like I could. My work is always perfect, and you should learn to appreciate that instead of constantly breaking it!”

She sounded miffed, but as Ed looked down to see her pouring over his arm, he knew that wasn’t the case (at the moment). She was the best mechanic there was, just like she claimed.

Winry cared for the Elric brothers as though they really were her family, and Al even more so. They wouldn’t admit it to each other, but they had no problems admitting it to Ed.

Al had told Ed all about his feelings for Winry. They had spent nights on end with Al just ranting about something she had done that had worried him or something sweet she had said or even how the moonlight hit her hair just right. Winry didn’t say quite as much, but she had confessed her feelings over Al a good few times, always ending the conversation with a threatening wrench and a promise not to tell.

Ed wasn’t sure if it was true love or not, but that was what it looked like to him.

He would listen to their love troubles as long as they wanted, but they would have to let each other know on their own terms. Ed was a lot of things; he wasn’t a middle-man. When the truth came out, it would be when they decided that they were ready.

“Brother, where does this connect?” Al pointed out a side-note Ed had scribbled on the edge of a sketch, and Ed leaned over only to get yanked back towards Winry with a harsh “Stay still.” Ed scowled while Al laughed, instead joining Winry in Ed’s personal space to better ask his question.

Ed may not approve of Mustang’s methods or motives, but he couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying the results.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy tapped his fingers on the table, calmly waiting for his best friend to stop laughing. Maes’ lips were twisted into a delighted grin that Roy found more irritating than usual.

“Roy, my friend, if there was doubt before, it’s gone now. Ed is definitely your Gracia.”

“I don’t think him kicking me out of my own house for the night makes him my soul mate, Maes.”

Roy’s words were deadpanned, all humor long gone. He had gotten enough jokes from his unit throughout the day, and that was without telling them that he had made the decision to actually heed Edward’s warning and spend the night at Maes’.

“No, but you allowing yourself to get kicked out does.”

“I don’t understand.” The admission tasted bad in Roy’s mouth, so he washed it down with a sip of whiskey. “I knew he would be upset over why I brought them in, but that reaction—why would he be so afraid for them to travel?”

Roy had never worried about any of his friends going across the country. They could take care of themselves, and Alphonse was no different. He was a successful, established alchemist.

Maes took too long to answer, and Roy studied him more carefully.

The bespectacled man had leaned back in his chair, his smile gone as he watched Roy back in a way that let the Colonel know that he was deciding how much information he should hand out.

Maes had a white V-neck on, his upper body nicely toned despite his lack of time in the field. Dark liquid swirled in Maes’ glass as he mulled over his thoughts, and Roy waited for the other man to speak. Nothing he could say would make Maes decide any faster, so he may as well keep as many cards in his hand as possible until the chance to use them arrived.

“When Ed was younger, Al decided to meet him on one of his missions for a few days.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed as he took in the new information. He had read every one of Ed’s reports, and there was nothing about Alphonse ever being present.

“On the way there, someone realized who he was, and Al was captured. He’s a strong fighter - he takes after his brother – but there’s a difference between knowing the motions and theories and putting them into practice. He was taken, and Ed almost lost him.”

Roy didn’t doubt that Edward proceeded to take what had happened to heart and placed the blame firmly on his own shoulders.

“Alphonse could have told him though. I presented the idea of it being a surprise, but there’s no way he of all people wouldn’t know how Fullmetal felt about him traveling on his own.”

Alphonse didn’t care anywhere near enough for Roy to value Roy’s preference of it being a surprise over Edward’s paranoia.

“Honestly, Roy? I think a big part of it is because you were behind it.”

Maes was watching Roy carefully, gauging his reaction. Roy didn’t bother to mask his frown. He and Edward had, well, they hadn’t exactly been getting along lately, but they were doing better.

“Why would that make a difference?”

“He doesn’t trust you. In fact, he doesn’t just _not_ trust you, he _dis_ trusts you.”

Roy sat his whiskey down, not liking the way this conversation was going but wanting to be at full attention for it.

“I know you mean well, but planning out how to get him is only going to push him away. He’s used to people trying to control him from every angle. If you really want him, you need to be the one who doesn’t. You need to talk to him, Roy. Really talk.”

Maes gave it to him as straight as he could, and the Colonel sighed, knowing that when it came to romantic advice, Maes was never wrong.

Roy could attract anyone he wanted, but only superficially. Maes knew about love. That, above all else, was why Maes had Edward accepting his place in the Hughes family and Roy had Edward forcibly staying in his home. Fullmetal just didn’t _do_ superficial.

He didn’t trust Roy, and Roy hadn’t done much to inspire trust between them. It would make sense that his paranoia would have skyrocketed once Roy entered the picture. Roy, who always had an ulterior motive. Roy, who had reached out to Edward’s brother for unknown reasons. Roy, who had placed his brother in possible danger for a motive that ended up being a _dance_. A dance and Roy’s ever-important reputation.

Alphonse’s life for politics: another thing that Edward despised.

Yet again, Roy had to concede to the elder Elric. He had planned everything out down to the last detail, and Edward had bypassed it all and done something unpredictable. Again and again and _again_ , Roy found himself bested by the young man without Edward even trying.

Looking back with the new facts, he had gone about it all wrong. He was still in the wrong. Roy didn’t just want Edward to stop seeing him as an enemy. He wanted Edward to see him as a friend. He wanted to know Edward like Maes did; better than Maes did. Roy wanted Fullmetal to smile at the thought of bonding with him instead of sneer.

The Colonel sighed, picked up his whiskey, and downed the rest of the glass.

“I’ll go talk to him.”

Roy pushed back his chair, which had both his uniform jacket and petty coat hung on the back, but Maes got up just as quickly, smile back in place and hands firmly on Roy’s shoulders.

“Oh, no, no, no. You’ve been kicked out, remember? You can’t talk to him until tomorrow.”

Maes sounded absolutely gleeful. His amusement was back in full force, just as clear as before their bout of serious conversation, and Roy frowned.

“It’s _my_ house.”

Edward was a guest. He couldn’t actually kick Roy out.

Maes just pushed Roy back into his chair and turned away, a grin on his face to match when he had first convinced Roy to go on blind dates. Seconds later, the man returned with two clean glasses, a bottle of milk, and a plate of cookies.

“Roy, you’re a man in love.” Maes picked up a cookie and took a bite, the act of chewing doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin. “It’s high time you spent a night on the couch.”

Roy groaned at the words, knowing too well that there was no way to escape his best friend’s home now, and reached for a clean glass. He may not be in love, like Maes believed, but he was willing to fall, and that was more than Roy had ever been able to say before.

“Then fill me up, bartender.”

Maes smiled, pouring them both a tall, cold glass of milk and handing it over. Roy reached for one of Gracia’s famous cookies, tapping it against Maes’ own in some form of a childish toast before taking a bite.

“You know, one day it might be me over at your house eating Ed’s cookies.”

Maes’s grin reminded Roy of when they were teens gossiping about the girls across the way in the military academy, back before the Civil War. Roy scoffed.

“He can’t cook.” Roy finished off his cookie and went for another. “The man walks circles around legendary alchemic theorists and can’t boil a pot of water without clapping first.”

“Still? Al mentioned he was terrible at it when they were younger, but I figured he would have learned by now.” Maes’ grin turned mischievous. “Elicia, however, is a wonderful cook! She helped make these, you know. I’m actually thinking of getting her a little chef’s hat and apron. I think she’d be so cute and…”

Maes rambled on about his daughter and how wonderful she was, and Roy rolled his eyes but let the other man continue as he pleased. It had been a long time since they had just hung out without business or problems or planning. They couldn’t really afford to be spontaneous these days (not that Roy had ever been a very spontaneous man), and it was a nice change. Roy glanced over the pictures that Maes had brought out with only mild interest as he took another bite of his cookie.

It really was delicious, and Roy would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it impressive that such a little girl could make them. If Edward tried… well, it was a good thing that the blonde didn’t drink milk because Roy was sure he would need something to wash the mess down with.

He supposed the fact that he looked forward to eating them despite the taste spoke for itself.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed glanced up as Mustang entered the room. He had been surprised when the Colonel had actually listened to him and stayed out of the house, and his guilt had only grown since. As much of an ass as Mustang was, and as much as he had no right to go behind Ed’s back and use his family just to make sure that Ed would go to a ball, Ed had no right to storm into Mustang’s office and humiliate him.

Instead of heading straight for Ed though, the Colonel just went to his normal seat and sat down as though nothing had happened. Honestly, that almost made him wish Winry hadn’t made the point about not going to school during vacation so that Al could face the music with him.

Not that Al would do much more than point out that whatever Mustang had to say was right, but his presence would still be welcomed.

Mustang was a master at planning things out while Ed preferred to deal with them on the fly. That meant that Mustang had all night to figure up a way to get back at Ed while the blonde had spent those hours discussing theories with his younger brother and listening to Winry talk about her plans to improve both the shop and his automail.

The class period was spent with Ed glancing between the clock and Mustang, neither giving him any peace of mind. Come break time, Ed had done enough waiting. He stood from his seat, probably for the first time that semester, and walked towards Mustang.

Tringham stopped talking as Ed approached, and the rest were quick to follow his gaze. Lust looked amused, Tringham unimpressed, Sheska embarrassed, Greeling mildly interested, and Mustang curious. Ed squared his shoulders, feeling as though he was about to go to war.

“We need to talk.”

Ed almost cringed at his own lack of finesse, but talking about his feelings had never been his strong suit. He didn’t have too much pride to apologize when he was wrong, but it wasn’t exactly easy to bare his neck, either. Mustang cocked a slim brow.

“Alright, after class we can—”

“Now, Mustang.”

Okay, so he wasn’t exactly in a position to be demanding, but patience had never been one of Ed’s virtues. Ed watched Greeling give a toothy grin at the words before his attention was drawn back to the Colonel, who had stood in preparation to leave.

“Roy, why are you listening to this punk? Hasn’t he forced you into enough already?”

Tringham wasn’t happy with Ed’s attitude, and he wasn’t afraid to say it. Sheska gave Tringham a disapproving look, letting Ed know that Mustang had never implied that he had been strong-armed into choosing Ed. The Humunculi siblings just looked pleasantly amused.

Fucking sadists.

They passed Armstrong on their way out, Mustang giving him a meaningful look that the muscular man returned. It wasn’t until they reached a deserted classroom that Ed bothered to stop, knowing that Armstrong didn’t expect them back on time. His braid swung around with the force of his turn as Ed prepared to take whatever lashings Mustang decided he deserved.

“I’m sorry.”

“Wait. What? Why the hell are you apologizing? I’m the one who went off on you and made a scene in front of your men. And then…” Ed hesitated, feeling more embarrassed then he would like to admit, “and then kicked you out of your own house.”

Ed looked off to the side at that last part, not really wanting to take credit for how childish he had been.

“I mean, I don’t regret telling you off because you totally fucking deserved that, but I shouldn’t have done it while you were at work.” Golden eyes swiveled back to meet obsidian, “And in my defense, I didn’t think you’d fucking listen to me and actually stay at Maes’. I mean, it’s _your_ house.”

Though it was probably for the best that he did stay away, as Ed hadn’t calmed down and seen what Al was trying to explain to him about how he handled the situation until breakfast that morning.

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have come to my work with your personal business.” Ed cringed but didn’t argue, prepared for whatever reprimands he would receive. “You’re also correct in that I deserved it.”

Ed was more than surprised to hear that, and this time when gold met ebony, he couldn’t have looked away if he tried.

“I shouldn’t have went anywhere near your family. I wanted you to attend the ball, and I knew that Ms. Rockbell would love to go. I equally knew that if she and your brother went, they would convince you to attend, whether you liked it or not. I crossed a line, and I apologize.”

He sounded so much more refined in his apology than Ed had, and not for the first time, the Major felt like a little kid standing next to a well-rounded adult.

“It… it’s not fine, but you couldn’t have known I would be so against it—”

“I couldn’t have known Alphonse had been kidnapped before, no,” Mustang paused, and Ed took in that Maes must have explained it the night before, “but I should have taken into account that you have enemies, and I should have protected them accordingly. Look, Fullmetal, I know you don’t trust me. I haven’t given you any reason to trust me. If we want to survive these next few weeks together, we have to change that.”

Mustang stopped speaking, seeming to be thinking something over. Ed didn’t dare interrupt, should whatever understanding they had be lost with the silence.

“I’m manipulative. It’s how I work, and that won’t change anytime soon. I’ll go behind your back, and I’ll tug you one way or the other if I think that will get me what I want, but I’ll try and do it less often, and if you call me out on it, I promise to tell you the truth.”

Before Ed could express his doubt, the Colonel continued.

“In return, you have to show me some benefit of the doubt. I know you’re used to people using you for their own gain, and I can’t promise I’ll never do that, but know that nothing I’ve ever done has been meant to harm you. I _am_ selfish, there’s no getting around that, but if getting what I want would hurt you, I’d rather give it up.”

Ed continued to stare long after Mustang had finished. There had to be a reason he was saying this. There had to be an ulterior motive. There had to be… but dark, intelligent eyes were sincere. Mustang held out a hand, his left one, for Ed to shake.

“Do we have a deal?”

Edward would admit he was more than a little suspicious of this offer. Mustang was right: he had never had a reason to trust the Colonel. Ed had always been a good judge of when someone was lying though, and all he saw in Mustang at the moment was a sincere proposal.

It would certainly make life easier. He wouldn’t have to worry as much about Mustang always using him as a puppet. Could he actually trust that the Colonel would keep his end of the bargain though? Could he actually trust Mustang?

Ed put his flesh hand out, keeping it centimeters away from Mustang’s as he countered.

“Why did you choose me?”

If Mustang told the truth, Ed would agree to the deal. If he lied or tried to get around the question again, things would go back to the way they were. Obsidian eyes refused to release their hold on golden ones, and Ed could almost see the cogs turning in the Colonel’s mind.

Without warning, Mustang’s hand clasped itself with Edward’s, and the younger man was tugged forward until his chest was flush against Mustang’s and their lips were perfectly connected in a chaste kiss.

Ed’s Core soared at the contact, leaving him no way to even think about biting back the soft moan that left his mouth. Mustang pulled away only seconds later, his eyes studying Ed for any reaction that the blonde would give him.

Golden eyes blinked, disoriented to what, exactly, had just happened, but the way Mustang was looking at him; the way his hand held Ed’s own, continuously sending sparks through the younger man’s body, said enough.

“ _That’s why_.”

The words were a breathless whisper, still too loud in the dead silence of the classroom, and Ed found his hand gripping Mustang’s back in a firm shake without his complete consent.

Ed came out of his stupor and jerked his hand away, moving back so that his body was well out of Mustang’s personal space and, more importantly, Mustang was out of his. He had just— _they_ had just—Ed had never kissed anyone before. He wasn’t sure if it was because his Core had been sent into overdrive or if Mustang was just a phenomenal kisser or both, but it had felt good. More than good.

Ed took in a shaky breath as he stared at the Colonel, more wary than ever despite their truce. Roy Fucking Mustang couldn’t like him. It wasn’t possible.

The satisfied smirk sitting on arrogant lips said otherwise though, and Ed didn’t need a mirror to know he was blushing.

“We should get back to class.”

Ed licked his lips, half expecting them to taste different from normal and pleasantly surprised to find that they didn’t. Mustang only ran his eyes slowly over Ed’s form, taking all of him in, and after a minute, Ed’s lips twisted into an irritated frown.

“Don’t think for a minute that I won’t kick your ass into next week if you pull a stunt like that again.”

Mustang chuckled at the threat, his laugh deep and soft, and raised his gloved hands into a mock-defensive position.

“Understood.”

But that calculating glint was back, and Ed knew the man wouldn’t be giving up whatever he was scheming anytime soon.

“I still don’t trust you.”

“I didn’t expect you would.”

Mustang sounded amused, and Ed rolled his eyes before opening the door to the classroom. He didn’t know how serious the Colonel was about what he had just done. Ed wasn’t even entirely sure he wanted to confirm or deny anything, but all of that could wait. For the moment, Ed was just glad to have reached some sort of agreement.

They could hash out Ed’s unwillingness to be one of Mustang’s play-things later.


	9. Chapter Nine

Class had ended by the time they headed to classroom again, and Ed decided the best plan of action was to quickly gather his things, skip the next class, and go find his brother and Winry. They would want to hear about this new development, and Al would know what Ed should do.

The door opened before they could enter the room, and Ed was surprised to see the two people he had been thinking about on the other side.

“Al?”

Before his question could get any farther, Al grabbed Ed and pulled him into the room. Ed felt his back press firmly against his younger, taller brother’s chest while the boy’s arms wrapped protectively around him. Ed glanced up to see Al glaring dangerously at Mustang.

“Are you alright, Brother? We came to meet you after class, but Alex said you and the Colonel had left halfway through.”

Golden eyes silently threatened Mustang through the entire speech, and Ed cocked a brow.

“I’m fine, Al. You know I can handle the bastard.”

Al just hummed at Ed’s defense, not explaining his own odd behavior as he pulled Ed even closer and thereby even farther from Mustang. Ed glanced curiously at the other State Alchemist, confused at what he had done to put Al so on edge.

“Manhandle him all you want later. We need to go shopping.” Winry moved to block Ed’s view, a grin on her face that Ed’s wallet knew too well. “I haven’t been in Central in a while, and I need supplies. Not to mention a dress for the ball, and I’m sure that you don’t have anything to wear, let alone something for Al to borrow. He’s gotten even taller, you know.”

She smiled sweetly as Ed frowned, well aware that his younger brother towered over him at an even six feet.

“What makes you think I’m going to pay for your supplies? And what do you need a dress for? We aren’t going to the stupid ball.”

Winry straightened up at his refusal, her arms crossing over her bosom.

“You’re buying my supplies because it’s your fault they get broken, and we _are_ going. It’s every beautiful, young girl’s dream to get swept off her feet in a beautiful dress by a beautiful man at a stunning ball.” She sighed dreamily before waving a wrench that she had pulled from thin air in his face, a sweetly determined, more than threatening look on her face. “We’ve already got the beautiful, young girl and the stunning ball, and you aren’t going to stand in the way of me finding the beautiful man just because you’re too cheap to provide the beautiful dress!”

The wrench got a little too close to Ed’s face for his comfort, especially since he couldn’t back away with Al behind him. Ed looked up in time to see the disappointment flash across Al’s face at the mention of Winry looking for another man to sweep her off her feet, and Ed sighed, knowing this was a battle he had long since lost.

“Now, come on! We’re going to need all the time we can get!”

She grabbed both Ed and Al’s arms, hooking their elbows together as she successfully separated the brothers. Winry dragged them out of the too-small door that the Colonel had smartly moved away from, giving nothing more than a quick, “Later, Mustang!” before dragging them out of the school building.

Seven dress shops were visited, too many dresses to count were tried on, and it wasn’t until it was dark outside that she finally decided on a gorgeous (incredibly expensive) blue ball gown that brought out her eyes and had Al swooning like nothing else. It tied around her neck with an open back and had dainty, gold designs at the bottom that served to complement her hair and tan complexion. It hurt his wallet, but only half as much as the matching jewelry and shoes. He didn’t even want to think about how much their custom suits had cost.

Ed and Al had gotten their suit measurements at the first store, neither of them picky or even sure what they were buying, and allowed Winry to make all of the fashion choices for them. Neither had been allowed to see what she had decided on (Winry insisted on surprising them) but Ed had seen her secretly purchase a blue tie to match her dress at the final store.

Ed sighed as he watched Al carry their new things, knowing that she only did this to Ed’s bank account but not really minding. It wasn’t as though he had anything to spend it on.

The only thing she was finished with, of course, was acting like a girl as she immediately changed direction to her favorite mechanics’ shop. Three mechanics shops were visited, and both Ed and Al had their arms full of bags by the time Winry declared the day over. They had shopped until the dead of night, eaten amazing food at a restaurant Ed had never been to before, stopped Al from taking home every stray cat the city had to offer, and had more fun than Ed could remember having in a long while.

The walk to Mustang’s would take a good forty five minutes, which would suck with all of the metal he was carrying, but Ed had to admit the trip had been fun. It was nice to just hang out with them again.

Even with Al flipping out over Mustang kissing him and berating Ed on letting the man get too close.

Without warning, Ed’s senses went on high alert, and Ed tossed a hand out to silence Al’s story. The younger man narrowed his eyes in confusion, glancing around the dark, empty street to see what had put Ed on edge but coming back with nothing.

“Ed, what are you—”

Ed silenced Winry by shoving all of the bags he had been carrying into her empty arms.

“Run back to Mustang’s as fast as you can and don’t stop until you get there.”

Ed wasn’t sure what was out there, but he knew it wasn’t good. Al’s eyes narrowed worriedly while Winry situated the merchandise that had been shoved on her.

“Brother—”

“Keep her safe.”

The importance of the order was clear, and Al only hesitated a moment longer before giving a decisive nod and turning to run.  Winry tossed one more concerned look at Ed before following Al. Once they were gone, Ed took in his surroundings more carefully, not liking that he was unable to find where the thing was hiding.

He didn’t have to wait long as a beast more than twice his size leapt from the shadows, barely giving him time to put his arm up in defense. It tackled him to the ground, teeth immediately latching onto his arm while one large paw dug into his abdomen, ripping one of his favorite shirts in the process.

Ed sneered as he maneuvered the soles of his shoes against the thing’s belly and kicked as hard as he could. It thrashed when hit, an angry growl communicating how the beast felt about being forced back. Its teeth left scrapes across his automail as it detached itself. Edward got to his feet without taking his eyes off of what was now obviously a chimera, letting his red cloak drop to the ground behind him nearly out of habit.

It figured that the second Mustang would bring up the possibility of a chimera existing, it would attack Ed.

The creature was one of the nastier creations Ed had seen: its head something between a wolf and a tiger with a torso that could have been human if not for the fur. Large arms morphed into dangerously large paws with what Ed now knew were incredibly sharp claws. The lower body had a long, whip-like tail and hooved feet meant for running things down.

Ed crouched into a defensive position, knowing that this wouldn’t be one of his easier fights, and quickly transmuted his lance into existence. The bright blue light seemed to bring the chimera back to reality as it snarled and lunged at Ed again.

Unlike the first attack, Ed was ready, and when the beast came for his face, he made sure the middle of the lance was there to chew on instead. The weapon broke almost immediately, and Ed took the moment of confusion to slam his automail fist, broken lance blade and all, into the chimera’s face. The thing howled as its cheek was ripped open, its body moving a few feet to the side at the force of the blow.

Ed didn’t waste time putting his hand to the ground to transmute spikes leading from him to the chimera. It leapt away as soon as it sensed the impending danger, but the thing was made with more strength than speed, and its underside didn’t escape the sharpness of the spikes. All of these blows only served to make it angrier, however, and it rushed at Ed, letting him know that there were horns next to its ears by digging them into his chest.

Its paw smashed harshly against Ed’s automail, claws curling out to dig into the metal, and Ed cringed as he felt some of his control over the limb slip away with the blow. Anger swiftly took hold, and Ed lifted his arm up, the monster’s arm coming along with it, to curl his fingers into its mane. He yanked as harshly as his malfunctions would let him, simultaneously dragging the beast’s head back (uncaring of its horns mutilating his chest) and breaking its arm, which couldn’t detach from Ed’s own in time.

The chimera struggled away from his hold, cracking Ed in the face with its own skull to loosen his grip before leaping back again, howling in pain and rage with one arm limp at its side. It had obviously identified Ed’s automail as its worst threat, and Ed wished for the days when these things couldn’t think for themselves.

It dove forward once more, and Ed transmuted knuckle-dusters onto his automail hand, making sure to punch the beast directly on the wounded part of its face. He succeeded in slicing open the area just below its eye as well.

He was able to land three hits, as the chimera was better prepared for his strength by that point, before it turned and took Ed’s hand into its mouth. It seemed not to care about the damage the spikes caused as it bit down as hard as it could, no doubt damaging its teeth as they cracked through his automail.

Ed’s face twisted in distaste, knowing he needed to end this soon or he would be a goner. The Fullmetal Alchemist yanked back as hard as he could and, without his consent, screamed as he felt the nerve endings being pulled with the automail. He ended up leaving half of his arm in the thing’s mouth.

It kept crunching for a full minute before realizing that Ed was no longer attached to the limb and spitting it out. Well, the blue light as Ed transmuted what was left of his arm into a blade probably helped that realization.

This time, it was Ed who lunged at the creature, faking a punch before roundhouse-kicking it in the chest with his automail leg and knocking it to the ground. It didn’t have a chance to get up before Ed destroyed whatever bones hadn’t been broken by his previous attacks via slamming the blade deep into its skull; right through the original wound. He didn’t allow his strength to let up until he felt the force of solid ground stopping his blade, and Ed grimaced as he saw lifeless eyes looking up at him, the creature’s blood spattered across his upper body.

Slowly, he sighed, acknowledging that yet another life had been ended at his hand. As he stood, his blade slipped out of the still-warm carcass so that he could transmute it back into what was left of his arm. His good hand picked up the remains of his automail as he began the trek to find a pay-phone and call his housemate.

Only, Ed didn’t actually know Mustang’s number. He had only called _from_ it, never _to_ it. Ed heaved an ever deeper sigh before spotting a phone booth a few meters away. He went to it and dialed the only number he knew would get him a response.

“Hughes’ household. Maes speaking.”

Maes sounded happy, and Ed frowned guiltily for interrupting the soldier’s family time.

“Hey, Maes, it’s Ed.”

Before Ed could say anything else, Maes was speaking again, his tone less jovial and more that of a concerned parent.

“Ed? Is something the matter?”

Ed figured he must be in pretty rough shape if Maes could tell something was off just from his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… could you get Mustang to come down to the old mill off of First Street? I just confirmed his chimera problem.”

Ed tried to lighten the mood with a laugh, but it ended up being more of a cough than anything else. Geez, how hard had that thing hit him?

Maes’ end of the line went silent for a few seconds before the older man’s voice came through once more.

“I’ll get right on it. My house is closer, so I should get there first, but he shouldn’t be far behind. Just stay put, alright?”

Ed nodded, ignoring the fact that there was no one around to see him.

“Yeah. I’ll be here.”

“Good.” A pause, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

This time, Ed really did chuckle, though it had a dash of bitterness mixed in with the humor.

“I’ve been through a lot worse than this; believe me.”

More silence on the other end.

“Alright. I’ll see you soon.”

Ed hung up before he heard the dial tone, his feet moving him back to the carcass of the chimera to sit and wait.

Winry was going to kill him for the damage he had done, but at least he had confirmed the rumors: there were definitely chimera being made in Central.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy watched Alphonse pace a hole in his kitchen floor, Winry sitting at the table with him but preferring to stare into her tea. It had been twenty minutes since they had gotten back without Edward. The younger Elric’s immediate reaction was for them to hop into Roy’s car and go back, but Roy was quick to put a stop to that line of thought.

If something actually were there, the chances that Edward had beaten it quickly and was on his way back were high. The chances that he was still fighting and had sent them back to Roy so that he would keep them safe were equally high. It was the second option that kept him grounded.

Fullmetal was far from weak; he could more than hold his own in a fight. If Roy went to help him, Alphonse would insist on tagging along, and there was a good probability that Winry would follow as well.

If Edward had sent them back here to keep them safe, Roy would keep them safe.

So, there they sat, or in Alphonse’s case, paced, until the phone rang. The younger Elric jumped at the sound, and Roy had to shoot him a pointed look to stop the younger man from answering. There was no telling if the person on the other line was Edward or not, and he didn’t need the world knowing that both Elrics were staying at his house.

“Mustang residence.”

Roy prided himself on sounding like it was just another night.

“Roy, are you free?”

Roy frowned as Maes’ voice came through the line. He never called this late unless something was wrong.

“Actually, it doesn’t matter. Drop whatever you’re doing and head down to the old mill off of First Street; the one near the bakery you like. Ed’s had a run-in with that chimera you were about to look for, and he didn’t sound like he made it out unscathed. I assume Al and Winry are with you?”

“Yeah. They’re here.”

Roy looked over at the two blondes to see them glance at each other, obviously convinced that Roy was speaking to Fullmetal.

“Good. I’m about to head down there now with a first aid kit. See you soon.”

The urgent note in Maes’ voice left no room for extra conversation. Roy hung up the phone and began to walk towards the door, hand already reaching for his keys.

“Was it Brother? Is he okay?”

Al’s attention was focused solely on Roy, and the Colonel distractedly noted that the man would do well in an interrogation room if the matter involved his brother.

“It was Maes. Ed found a chimera. We don’t know anything else.” Roy opened the door, his impatience finally showing as he looked back to his newest house-guests. “Are you coming or not?”

They moved as quickly as he had spoken, both eager to check on the final member of their little family. Winry slid into the front seat, next to Roy, and Alphonse practically jumped into the back. Roy didn’t bother telling them to buckle up, instead pulling out of his driveway and going more than a little over the speed limit. They reached the mill without issue, and Roy pulled to a stop next to Maes’ vehicle. Alphonse and Winry were out of the car before Roy could turn it off.

When Roy got out of the car, he walked over to the five figures in the darkness. Alphonse and Winry were both talking to Edward, who looked to be alright, and Maes stood in between the trio and what Roy assumed was the chimera. It was a ghastly thing, different animals mixing almost unidentifiably with an unnaturally bent arm and barely-intact skull. Fullmetal had certainly done a number on the beast.

As Roy got closer, Winry’s body stopped blocking the number that the beast had done back to Edward, and Roy felt his stomach churn.

Edward’s shirt had basically been ripped off of him, the scraps of cloth left doing nothing to hide the deep gashes running up his chest or the dark bruises beginning to form. His metal shoulder was an angry red where it met with skin. The junction was bleeding, most likely from whatever force had ripped half of his arm off.

That was only if the scrap metal hanging from his shoulder could even be called an arm anymore.

“Fullmetal, are you—”

Edward cut Roy off with an irritated glare.

“I’m fine! I’m fine, already! Geez, would you guys stop it? These are barely scratches,” he motioned to the deep gashes stretching from his abdomen to his upper chest, “and Winry’ll fix this right up, so…”

Edward trailed off, and Winry jumped into the conversation.

“Fix it right up? Ed, this will take all day tomorrow! You’re lucky we did the shopping today and even luckier I came prepared for you to have dented it up! This though—” she moved the limb to prove her point, stopping short when Edward’s body stilled completely, his face twisting into a pained grimace. Winry frowned concernedly, carefully lowering the mangled metal back to his side.

“You even managed to damage the nerve circuits, you dummy. We’re going to have to remove this tonight if you want to keep all of your mobility.”

She sounded annoyed, but it was clear that she didn’t like to see Edward in pain. Roy looked Edward over another time before moving his attention over to the carcass and lastly to Maes. Brown met obsidian, and the intelligence specialist nodded, giving Roy the go-ahead to call in backup.

He would take credit for discovery, as planned, and as soon as Edward’s story checked out, get Maes to take the Elric brothers and their childhood friend back to Roy’s house. Roy would join them shortly after the situation was cleaned up.

He made his way over to the nearest phone booth, drops of blood letting him know that it was the same one Edward had used, and called the necessary militia to deal with a dead chimera. They arrived within minutes and, after a choppy, hour-long report involving a lot of, “I just fucking killed it, okay?” and “I’m not going to the damn hospital!” Edward was able to leave with Maes, Winry, and Alphonse.

Questions about why and how Roy had come across the chimera and what he was going to do next kept him away for another full two hours, and it wasn’t until around three in the morning that he was able to go home. When he finally got back to his home, he was greeted by Maes and Alphonse chatting quietly on the couch. Roy stripped off his petty coat and uniform jacket, hanging them both on the rack by the door.

“Where’s Fullmetal?”

Maes stood at his question, sitting the cup of tea he had fixed himself on the coffee table and walking over to the Colonel with a tired smile.

“He’s up in his room. Resting. After Winry removed the remaining part of his arm, I was able to patch him up pretty well. Winry fell asleep after starting on Ed’s new arm, and we laid her down with him.” Maes put a comforting hand on Roy’s shoulder as he passed by, no doubt needing to get back and report to his worried wife. “He’s going to be fine, Roy.” After a firm squeeze, Maes dropped his grip on Roy and made his way out. “You all get some rest. I’ll be checking in later.”

The farewell directed at both Alphonse and Roy was barely caught as the door closed behind his retreating figure.

“How are you holding up?”

Roy knew that this was probably taking a higher toll on Al than anyone else, but the young blonde didn’t answer the way the Colonel had expected him to. Maybe it was just an Elric thing.

“What do you want with my brother?”

The question was straightforward, golden eyes boring into obsidian. Roy exhaled, knowing if he ever wanted anything with Edward he was going to have to get Alphonse’s approval first.

“He’s my intended.”

Roy wouldn’t lie. It felt good to say that to someone other than Maes. Alphonse immediately leaned forward, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“He can’t be! He’s got—” if possible, Alphonse’s eyes widened even further, “you- _you’ve_ got…” He covered his eyes with the heels of his palms and groaned. “Damn it, Brother.”

Roy cocked a brow.

“I’ve got what?”

Roy kept his tone and expression lightly curious, concealing his suspicions that whatever Alphonse was going to say had something to do with what Edward and Maes were hiding.

“You’ve got a contract with the _military_.” Alphonse practically spit the word military, and Roy frowned, unsure if the hesitation before speaking was because the boy was lying or if he really just felt that strongly about the subject. “Brother hates the military. As soon as his contract is up, he’s going to leave, cutting all ties with it. Maes is the only person he’ll keep up with, I’m sure.” A pause. “Edward’s going to move back to Resembool with us.”

Alphonse’s words were forceful and rang with truth, but if there was one thing the Elric brothers had in common, it was that they were terrible at lying.

Unfortunately, cover story or not, the younger alchemist had a point. Edward hated the military while the military was Roy’s entire future.

Roy had assumed that he would convince Edward to join his unit after school ended. Even though the man would be constantly sent into the field, Roy would be able to keep much better tabs on him; to steer the Major away from the nastier assignments. It would even be acceptable for him to work with Maes in Central’s Intelligence department. Not only would it be safer, but he would be able to put his extensive intelligence to good use as well as keep up his theories.

Unless Edward wouldn’t consider him a prospect because of his ties to the military. Fullmetal hated everything that Roy thrived on, save alchemy. Roy hadn’t thought it an issue until that point, as Edward had no choice for two more years. That, by default, gave Roy two years to convince him that the military could be his future, too.

Had he lost the battle before it even began?

Obsidian eyes narrowed.

No. No, Fullmetal wouldn’t judge someone based on background. Whether or not Roy was in the military wouldn’t make or break his chances. After all, he hadn’t broken Roy’s jaw when the Colonel had kissed him. He had _moaned_. Soft and low and unintentional: just enough to tease. Which meant that Alphonse was hiding something.

Strong black brows scrunched together as Roy studied the younger Elric. Could he hide something that Roy had though? Something that Ed had, yes, but something Roy had? Something they had in common?

Roy schooled his expression and body language as an idea –an impossible, unthinkable, completely fitting idea – hit him.

“If that’s what he really wants, I won’t stop him.”

Apparently that wasn’t the answer that Alphonse was expecting, golden eyes searching Roy (much like their elder counterparts often did) for any signs of deception. They wouldn’t find it. Much like Roy had earlier that day, he found that it was time to be honest.

Well, honest enough.

“I’m not trying to tie Edward down, Alphonse. I don’t intend to chain him to the military or use him to better my reputation. Think about it: his reckless actions and brash words are only going to call for a political open fire on me if I tie my name to his.”

Alphonse’s posture became more wary, if possible, and Roy knew something was breaking through that famous Elric stubbornness.

“At the end of the school year, if Fullmetal never wants to see me again, I’ll do everything in my power to make that happen.” Obsidian made sure to connect with gold. “But if he decides he wants to stay with me, even if he doesn’t want to bond,” _yet_ “you can’t stop him. I’m not asking you to hand your brother over to me. I’m asking you to let me have a chance.”

Roy waited as Alphonse stared him down, the other man clearly unhappy with the turn this talk had taken. Without warning, Alphonse’s face softened, and the young man sunk back into the couch.

“I visited Maes while you two were in class. He told me not to worry about your living situation because you would never hurt him. Edward can handle his own in a fight with most anyone, so I knew he had to mean emotionally. Brother doesn’t much like you, but he’s had to deal with plenty of people he doesn’t like over the years, and Maes’ smile was too soft to be talking about a bad situation. So, I knew he meant good feelings, and I knew he was talking about you. The rest was pretty easy to place.”

Alphonse sighed, his brilliance shining through even in the dead of night.

“Or so I thought. I figured you were trying to seduce him so that he would date you and up your status. He may suck politically, but having the Alchemist of the People on your side never made the polls go _down_.”

Alphonse shot Roy a look, and the Colonel chuckled at being caught before taking the seat Maes had vacated earlier.

“Don’t tell him.”

Roy’s voice was soft in the silence, more than a request but less than a demand. Alphonse looked at him like he was crazy.

“You can’t expect me to keep this from—”

“You said it yourself, Alphonse. Fullmetal doesn’t like me. What do you think he would do if you marched up to him and said I wanted to bond?”

Alphonse looked away, understanding the situation but not liking how it was playing out.

“He would reject me in an instant. I know your brother and I aren’t that close, but we’re getting there. Day by day, we’re getting to know each other, and I think it’s up to him to decide whether or not I’m worth it when the time comes.”

Roy stared at Alphonse even though the blonde wouldn’t look up from his tea.

“You know, if I wasn’t playing the same waiting game with Winry, I wouldn’t be able to agree to this.” Alphonse sounded almost as though he, himself, didn’t believe that he was actually going along with Roy’s request. Golden eyes finally met coal again, this time deadly serious. “If there’s even a second where I think this is some game to you – a moment of doubt in your sincerity – I’ll oust you without a second thought.”

A threat Alphonse no doubt _wanted_ to go through with.

“I’ll tell Brother everything I know, and he… he’ll decide on his own from there.”

Roy allowed a small amount of surprise to show on his features. He had expected the blonde would tell Fullmetal to steer clear of the Colonel at that point.

“I don’t think you’re a bad man; not with someone like Maes as a best friend. I’m just worried about—Brother isn’t—he doesn’t have the same experiences as you or me.”

Roy cocked a brow, for once not seeing where the conversation was heading. When Alphonse didn’t explain further, Roy prodded him on.

“Experiences?”

He couldn’t think of any experiences that Alphonse and he shared that Edward didn’t. Alphonse, displeased with Roy’s lack of knowledge, huffed and scratched the back of his head, a habit he no doubt picked up from his brother.

“That kiss you gave him today? It was his first.”

Roy’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. That couldn’t have been Fullmetal’s first kiss. The man was a handsome, brilliant, famous, eligible bachelor who spent all of his time on the road. With how much traveling he did, he could have a few new partners a week if he wanted. Surely he must have gotten curious at some point, if not for love than just to see what it was like?

Only the look in Alphonse’s eyes said differently. Fullmetal wasn’t that kind of man, and if Roy’s earlier suspicion was right, then…

“He’s spent his entire life fighting, learning alchemy, and doing the military’s bidding, and he’s done it with the sole purpose of providing a better life for me. Not a day – _not a single day_ – has gone by that he’s focused on himself since our mom passed. He doesn’t know how to tell when someone likes him because he doesn’t see himself like that. All Brother sees are the people he cares about and ways to protect them. He’s…” Alphonse’s lips tugged into a frown as he trailed off. “Courting him isn’t going to be easy, and I don’t intend to make it any easier for you.”

The blonde sat his tea cup back down and stood, obviously finished with the conversation.

“Just be careful with him, okay?”

Slowly, Roy nodded, and the final of his house-guests walked up the steps to rest with his family.

The Colonel may not have gotten Alphonse’s blessing, but he had permission, and he could work with that.


	10. Chapter Ten

Roy was up early. He was awake and dressed and ready as the sun was considering making an appearance. When he made his way down the stairs and through the living room, he was greeted by the sight of Winry hard at work on Edward’s new arm.

She was bright. There was no denying that. What shone through more in that moment though, was the loyalty, love, and dedication she held for Edward. They stared at each other for a moment, a silent understanding passing between them, before Roy nodded and left the house.

Usually, Roy needed to be in class first thing. He would often go into work beforehand, but that had lessened when he started living with Edward. Today, however, he had business to attend to that was related to neither school nor work. His car took a familiar route almost without thinking about it, and it wasn’t until Roy reached Maes’ front door, sun peaking over the horizon, that he tuned back into reality.

One gloved hand raised and rapped three times against the wood. Maes opened the door a few seconds later. Roy gave him a pointed look, letting him know that they couldn’t speak in public, before Maes’ expression darkened slightly and he welcomed Roy into the house.

“It’s Roy. We’ll be upstairs for a bit, alright?”

Maes half-shouted across the house, calculating eyes never leaving Roy, and Gracia responded in turn.

“Alright. We’ll be down here if you need anything.”

She knew the drill at this point, though Roy rarely ever came unexpectedly anymore, and the two men moved up the stairwell to Maes’ room. As soon as the door closed, the words tumbled out.

“He has an Energy Fire Core, doesn’t he?”

Roy’s voice was lowered despite the knowledge that this was one of the safest places to speak in the world. None of the doubt over his theory leaked into Roy’s voice, and Maes’ eyes hardened, lips twitching into a fraction of a frown. It was all the reaction he needed.

Roy felt the breath momentarily leave his body as the weight of the truth settled on his shoulders.

 _\--“_ Fuck off, Mustang _.” roughly spelled itself out in front of him via flames unlike anything Roy had felt before. Russell sneered, immediately assuming that Edward was trying to impress Roy, while Solaris chuckled and Gerard’s brows rose, his signature sunglasses lowering slightly to look at the fiery words more closely. Roy, however, was entranced. Whatever alchemy Edward was using, it spoke to Roy’s very Core, and he wanted more than anything to keep it going as long as possible._

 _\--_ _Edward inhaled a sharp gasp, golden eyes becoming hooded and lightly glazed over, and a lithe, partially metal body leaned into Roy’s touch. Edward was fucking_ swooning _. If there was one thing that Roy knew, it was that Edward Elric didn’t swoon. Especially not over him. Obsidian eyes narrowed, taking in every aspect of Edward that they could, trying to figure out if he had been drugged or—_

_\--“What’s it like?” Obsidian eyes met golden, and Roy cocked a brow in question. Edward didn’t speak again for a moment, and Roy thought that Edward might pretend that he had never spoken at all, when the blonde continued. “Being able to bond with whoever you want.”_

_\--_ _Roy’s hand clasped itself with Edward’s, tugging the younger man forward until his chest was flush against the Roy’s own, their bodies fitting just as perfectly together as their lips. The kiss was chaste, but Roy was tempted to do so much more as Ed let the softest of moans slip between them. He pulled away only a moment later, not trusting himself to stay in that position any longer._

_\--“He’s my intended.”_

_Roy wouldn’t lie. It felt good to say that to someone other than Maes. Alphonse immediately leaned forward, his eyes wide in disbelief._

“ _He can’t be! He’s got—” if possible, Alphonse’s eyes widened even further, “you-you’ve got…” He covered his eyes with the heels of his palms and groaned. “Damn it, Brother.”_

_\--“I was in the room when you went through it.” Edward paused, seeing that the man’s stare wasn’t budging, and continued. “Maes found me after class ended and we talked for a while. I felt… off, and he convinced me to go to the infirmary. He knew I wouldn’t tell, and I haven’t. Your secret is safe.”_

_\--“What happened?” Roy’s question hung in the air for a few minutes, Maes’ expression unreadable. The silence hung heavily in the room, interrupted only by Edward’s light, shuddered breathing. Finally, Maes responded, tone evasive._

“ _I don’t want to lie to you, Roy.”_

Roy allowed himself to sit on the bed, his body slightly slumped as he placed his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands, not caring that it wrinkled his uniform. Edward hadn’t figured out a new way to draw out the energy of a Core-holder going through Inheritance. He had drawn Roy’s heat into himself, and he had suffered through Roy’s Inheritance alongside the Colonel. Maybe he had even experienced worse afterwards.

Roy had been the cause of his sickness that night. It was all right in front of him. How could he have missed—

“ _We have a partial bond_.”

It wasn’t a question. That was why Edward had swooned when they touched. That was why he had worked so hard to avoid Roy after that night. That was why he moaned when they kissed. It wasn’t anything Edward felt for Roy. It was the blonde’s Core reacting to a close proximity with Roy’s because Edward didn’t know how not to be selfless.

This made everything so much more complicated. What was he supposed to do now? Walk up to Edward and just let him know that he had figured out the blonde’s most well-kept secret? Edward would never believe that he had just come upon it recently. He would never believe that Roy had wanted him before finding out about his Core.

This… Roy had to keep going without letting Fullmetal know what he knew. At the same time, he couldn’t just carry on as though he didn’t know. This changed everything.

Edward could bond only to Activation Fire Core holders (almost exclusively to Roy, at this point), and that made him a powerful political tool. That was without taking his strong alchemic prowess, impressive military title, overwhelming intelligence, and reputation as the Alchemist of the People into account. To avoid becoming that tool – to avoid being used – Edward would do near anything.

Even more so since people would try to go through his brother to get to him.

If Edward thought even for a second that Roy was going to use him to get a higher place on the totem pole (a thought Edward would no doubt have the _moment_ he found out Roy knew), he would pull away and never return. Roy’s entire plan had to be trashed.   _Again_.

First off, the Colonel had to make Edward fall in love with him with the least amount of physical interaction possible. Every time he touched Edward, every kiss they shared, Edward would become more convinced that the connection they had was purely because of their partial bond. If he wanted to convince the blonde of anything lasting, he would have to ditch his reliance on what he had before considered his foothold in this courting process: Edward’s sexual attraction to him.

He supposed it was a good thing he had went ahead and gotten that kiss in because it would be quite a while before he would be able to take another.

There had never been a recorded partial bond between Fire Core holders. Partial bonds in general were rare. Roy only knew of fifty or so in history. They were most common between Water and Steel types, simply because while Steel bonded very well with Water, Water didn’t bond incredibly well with Steel. Sometimes, that was too much for their bodies or wills to overcome.

Fire Cores, however, attracted each other like nothing else. If Roy had been conscious, the want to feel the pleasure of a completed bond probably would have overrode logical thought, and he would have completed the bond without thinking about it.

Roy’s fingers curled more tightly into his hair as he realized that Edward had not only taken on the pain of his Inheritance but the pain of an incomplete bond as well. How he made it out of the room, let alone home, the night after Roy’s Inheritance was a mystery.

Had he felt pain after Roy grasped his arm, too? After they kissed? Cores were temperamental things. The only way to fully know how one would react to a stimulus was to be there when it was doing so. Sure, they could make a fairly accurate assumption, but nothing was ever one hundred percent certain.

It was only recently, perhaps fifty years ago, that alchemists were identified by whether or not they held Cores. Before that, alchemists were simply whoever had the ability to do alchemy, and Cores were something that random people just happened to have.

Around a child’s ninth birthday, he or she could instinctively tell if a Core was present and what type that Core was. Recent technology allowed them to check and be sure, even identify the Core type, but the quickest and easiest way was to find out naturally. Roy didn’t doubt that Fullmetal knew the consequences of his Core soon after realizing he had one. If he had run off in an excited frenzy and told people – much like Roy had – then things would be far different.

Only he hadn’t, and they weren’t.

Roy now more than ever needed to become aware of Edward’s habits – his likes, his dislikes, his dreams and beliefs – and _show_ the blonde that he could be depended on. He had to earn Edward’s trust. No more games. Fullmetal wasn’t just acting on a distrust of Roy; he was acting on a distrust of humanity.

Alphonse. Winry. Maes. They were the only people Edward felt comfortable with. They were the only people he trusted. If Roy wanted to join that circle, he was going to have to give this priority. If he wanted Edward to _want_ to complete the bond, he was going to have to do things the blonde’s way. As much as Roy really, truly despised it, his plans had to be burned yet again, and this time he couldn’t make new ones.

It was time Roy stepped up and acted like the man he so often pretended to be.

“I’ll get you some tea.”

Maes’ voice was soft and understanding. Roy’s lips thinned into a line before he stood, alchemically ironing his uniform as he did.

“That won’t be necessary.” Obsidian met chocolate. “Thanks.”

Thanks for always being there.

Thanks for letting him show weakness.

Thanks for not lying all those nights ago.

Even in a situation where Maes _couldn’t_ tell the truth, he didn’t lie. Not to Roy.

The Colonel gripped his best friend’s shoulder reassuringly, letting him know that he would work through this just as well as any other situation, before walking past. Maes followed him back down the steps; a comfortable silence between them.

Their lives were constantly changing. From school to war to politics, they had each other’s backs. They were the only people who knew absolutely everything about each other. As Roy nodded to his closest friend and stepped out of the house, he realized something important.

_Maes was Roy’s Alphonse._

Edward had always been equated with Roy’s Gracia, but maybe it was time for Roy to be that for Ed instead. Maybe it was time their circles of trust branched out, if only one more person.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy did everything normally. Edward’s absence wasn’t technically a large issue as the blonde rarely ever attended classes, but it was glaring distraction to Roy. By the time he finally got to Armstrong’s class – his last class of the day – his pretend patience had worn thin, and it was only through years of political maneuvering that his public persona stayed intact.

Armstrong pulled Roy to the side with an overly friendly arm over the shoulder, and the Colonel allowed it, if only to give the larger man some of the peace of mind he was no doubt seeking. Once the hall was cleared and the door to the classroom firmly shut, Armstrong moved out of Roy’s personal space.

“Is it true?”

News in the military traveled fast, and Roy taking credit for the discovery of a chimera in the area – one taken out by the Alchemist of the People no less – was no exception. It not only upped Roy’s political agenda, making him seem more confident, but it brought Edward’s and Roy’s relationship into question.

Roy’s love of beautiful people wasn’t a secret by any means, but Edward’s dislike of all things militia (and more specifically Roy) made their connection more questionable. Those in Roy’s circle would actually love to be able to write it off as a fling of some sort. A romantic relationship was fragile. Messy. Easy to slander.

Fullmetal didn’t generally like Roy though. If not a romantic relationship, then the Flame Alchemist may have somehow convinced Edward to join with him politically. A politically active Fullmetal was far more dangerous than a love-struck one. Edward wasn’t going to get attention for his Core, but an unknown relationship with Roy would get him nearly as much.

“Depends on what you’ve heard.”

“Edward he—is he alright?”

Armstrong was truly, genuinely concerned, and Roy thought back to the night before; to Edward’s missing arm and bruised, bloody figure.

“He’ll be fine.”

They were both military men. They knew how to read between the lines. With a long stare and a decisive nod, Armstrong turned and went into the classroom. Roy followed a moment later, stopping short as Armstrong’s booming voice entered the air.

“My dear students, today is a day for learning, but by experience! Today’s class time should be spent with your bond-mates!” His arms spread wide, sparkles overflowing and shirt ripping to expose an overly-muscled torso. “Be free, my friends, and I shall see you tomorrow!”

Roy knew that this was for him and for Fullmetal, and that it was (technically) sweet, but he really wished that Armstrong had consulted him first. He didn’t want anything getting out that Edward didn’t want, and he wasn’t going to head back home anytime soon anyhow. Edward was vulnerable, and they weren’t close enough for Roy to witness that yet.

There was nothing the Flame Alchemist could do about it now though, so he may as well take the gift for what it was.

He watched Namae stare at the place where Edward usually sat for a good minute before meeting gazes with the tan man. Namae’s expression didn’t change, and neither did Roy’s, but the challenge was clear. Sheska ended their unspoken dispute by walking over to Namae and stuttering out that they should probably go. The Colonel was fairly sure that Namae had only chosen her because she was Edward’s closest thing to a friend in the class, but he couldn’t be sure.

Envy walked past Roy, sneering at him as he went but nothing more. Roy took a moment to feel sorry for Russell, who had ended up with Envy for much the same reason Namae had gotten Sheska: connections (or in this case resemblances) to Edward.

For a while, Roy had scoffed at the thought of Envy succeeding in getting Edward because he didn’t see how their personalities could possibly work together, but now he knew the truth. Their personalities could be perfect, and it would still be useless. Activation Wind and Energy Fire just didn’t mix.

Roy turned and exited the room only to be flanked on both sides by Russell and Gerard.

“How’s Elric taking the news?”

Russell’s smile and tone were both haughty and playful, as though this was a secret they shared, and both Roy and Gerard’s brows rose in question. Martel, who Gerard had paired with, went in the opposite direction, probably with plans to meet up later.

Gerard, somewhat like Roy, had his own group of followers: Martel, Roa, and Dolcetto. Why he stuck with Roy through this class was a mystery, though a large part of the Colonel attributed it to the amusement factor. Gerard was just as dominant, just as much of a leader as Roy, and he cared just as much for his makeshift unit.

The difference was that he was more of a chaotic neutral. Where Roy planned and calculated and had clear goals, Gerard was more of a free spirit. He did things because they seemed like a good idea at the time or because he felt like it. If something enticed him, he jumped into the fray after it, consequences be damned.

Fullmetal didn’t call him Greeling for nothing.

“I meant about Fullmetal actually being in town. Chimera attacks aren’t usual around here, and the Alchemist of the People showing up out of the blue to take it out only makes it more of an event. It’s hard for him to pretend he’s a famous alchemist when that same alchemist makes an appearance, you know?”

Russell looked more unsure than before, not wanting to fall farther from Roy’s graces after falling short of being picked for the bonding exercise.

Gerard’s lips quirked in amusement as he pushed his sunglasses back up his nose. Roy kept his expression mostly neutral with a sliver of understanding.

“I call him Fullmetal because he _is_ Fullmetal, Russell.”

It was the first time that Roy had felt the need to correct Russell’s assumption, but frankly he was becoming tired of the constant jabs against Edward. The blonde had a hard enough life without constant, contemptuous attacks on his person.

Well, it was partially that and partially because the more he got to know Edward, the more protective he became. Gerard paid more attention to this information, his usual, uncaring demeanor toppled by interest in the change in Roy’s actions.

“Oh.”

It was clear that Russell wasn’t entirely sure that he believed what Roy was saying, but he held Roy in such high regard that he didn’t want to offend, either. Russell was smart. He couldn’t read Roy like Edward could, but he knew that there was an underlying reason Edward was chosen instead of him. He knew that as much attention as he _did_ get from Roy, it wasn’t as much as Edward, and his current position at the Colonel’s side was entirely situational.

Fullmetal took priority over Russell, and as much as the younger blonde didn’t want to admit it, he knew that.

“So, he really took out a chimera?”

Roy glanced over to see charcoal grey eyes peering interestedly over round sunglasses, and Roy knew that the question was superficial. He had seen that particular look in Gerard’s eyes before, and he knew that the man’s attention had been caught in the steel grip of his often single-minded nature.

It had been caught by Edward Elric.

Even without the knowledge of Gerard’s mannerisms, Roy knew for a fact that Gerard had always believed in Edward’s place as the Fullmetal Alchemist. He would also have near immediate access to the more classified information of last night’s happenings.

Gerard had six siblings, all ranging in age and occupation. After meeting Envy, Edward had taken the liberty of nicknaming the rest of the Homunculi siblings, all after the seven deadly sins. Greeling and Lust went to the Academy, obviously. He hadn’t met three of the siblings (that Roy knew of) to name them, which left Sloth, Wrath, and Gluttony up for grabs.

Pride, however, belonged to the reason that Gerard could get whatever information he wanted: Führer King Bradley. Gerard was too independent, too much of a wild card for Bradley to keep under his thumb, but Führer wouldn’t risk publicly disowning his brother, either. That allowed Gerard to drop Bradley’s name for otherwise unobtainable connections. At the same time, the two men had little to no contact with each other.

According to all information Roy had been able to gather, they simply didn’t get along.

Roy gave Gerard a polite, that’s-classified-information smile, and a wolfish grin broke out on the Homunculi’s features. Roy could only hope what he was seeing wouldn’t develop into the same _interest_ that he, himself held for Fullmetal.

Not that anything could come of it even if it did, not with Gerard’s Activation Steel Core, but that didn’t make the extra competition for Edward’s attention sit any better with the Colonel.

“There’s going to be a press conference later this afternoon. You’re free to attend if you’re really that curious.”

His politeness was almost overly so. While they spent quite a bit of time in class together, Roy and Gerard couldn’t be considered friends. Gerard liked – if it could even be called that – Roy for his power and control. He could respect Roy’s ability to get what he wanted no matter the circumstances, and the way that Roy went about it was so different from his own style that Gerard probably found his general personality attention-grabbing.

It certainly didn’t hurt that the Colonel was more than at-odds with Bradley.

Roy left it at that and, with a wave, departed from his classmates. He would head to his office until the conference, and back to his office after that. Maybe he would stay there overnight.

Regardless of what Roy _should_ do, he was extremely tempted to go home. Connecting nerves to automail couldn’t be comfortable, and with their partial bond, Roy’s presence would ease that pain. After everything Edward had gone through for Roy, it was the least the Colonel could do. Yet, the least he could do was also to pretend he didn’t know and allow Edward the pride of suffering out of sight.

Fullmetal always had to make things complicated.

“How’s the Chief doing?”

As soon as Roy entered the office, Breda was asking about Edward. He had taken a definite liking to the blonde after Edward had gone off on Roy, and that showed.

Everyone in Roy’s unit had been thoroughly amused, of course, but more than that, they had been surprised that Roy hadn’t incinerated the blonde on the spot. Or taken him down politically. Or crushed his ego. Any action that would leave Edward scarred against ever defying Roy again.

Roy had let Edward walk out unscathed and, though they didn’t know it, even apologized for his actions. He hadn’t planned revenge. That, more than anything, let them know that Edward was special.

Roy’s unit acted as a makeshift family, and this was as good as extending Edward an invitation into that family. If Roy cared about Edward, his men would care about Edward by proxy.

“He’s fine.”

Roy didn’t give any particulars because he didn’t know any particulars. Havoc’s cigarette tilted downwards as he pursed his lips.

“How fine? The report said he was pretty roughed up.”

Havoc had taken a liking to Edward as well, but it seemed more like he looked up to the blonde than anything else. Roy tilted his head back slightly to look down his nose at his friend and colleague.

“Don’t you have other things to worry about? Like getting a date to the ball?”

Roy’s smirk was as condescending as his posture. Roy couldn’t be classified as an actual narcissist, but he was arrogant enough in many fields to come close. His looks – his ability to attract partners – was one of those areas.

Havoc was quite the opposite: his luck with the ladies was infamously bad, and he was always begging Roy to go on a double date with him. Roy could charm both their dates into staying no matter how clumsily Havoc handled the situation. What Havoc didn’t take into account was the likelihood that Roy would end up having a threesome.

Or at least he would have _._  Now he was not only monogamous, he was fucking _abstinent_.

Oh, how his knight would laugh if he knew.

Havoc stared for a long moment, irritation and embarrassment fighting in his eyes. Then his demeanor switched to something that mimicked Roy’s, lips stretching into a grin.

“Same could be said for you. It doesn’t look like Fullmetal’s going to agree to go to the ball, especially not with you, any time soon.”

Havoc tried to be condescending, but it just didn’t suit him. Roy decided to show him how it was done.

“Oh, he’ll be at the ball, but you’re right: not with me. _I’m_ going with Ariel.”

Roy watched as Havoc dropped his Roy-like persona, cigarette going limp in his mouth. Havoc had begged Roy to set him up with Ariel once their fling had ended. “Ended” in the sense of them not being exclusive or claiming any emotional connection. They still slept together on occasion.

Deciding he had won this battle, Roy turned to Falman.

“The lab report?”

“Already on your desk.”

Falman offered a gentle smile that put far too many people off-guard, and Roy nodded.

“Whatever they found, I want more. Get in touch with the lab and report back with any theories or information they may have kept to themselves. Breda, take Fuery and go back to the scene. See if the clean-up crew missed anything. Talk to anyone who might have heard or seen anything. We don’t have enough information until this is over.” He glanced over his men once more. “Havoc… go find a date.”

With that casual dismissal, Roy left for his office. Havoc sputtered, but Roy’s message had gotten across. The rest of the team was to focus on the chimera, but Havoc’s goal was the ball. Havoc was the most trusted of Roy’s men: one of the few people privy to what, exactly, Roy wanted to do with the position of Führer.

Roy needed to know precisely what was going on with the ball: who would be attending, who they would bring, which press had made the cut, and, most importantly, which political agendas would be most prevalent. Everyone had a plan for the night, and Roy needed to be aware of the ones which would work against him.

Hawkeye was currently collecting Intel on the layout of the building and the security which would be present. There would be more than a few influential people at the event to warrant targeting, and Roy needed to know the strengths and weaknesses of their protection. The information Roy wanted spanned from the connections that security had to the type of weapons used. He needed to know if there was anyone on protection duty who had actual or potential grievances with him or his men.

They would get all information on the ball to him by the end of the day tomorrow. It was unlikely there would be any change in plans between Friday and Saturday night, so that would be his window to learn everything that could be known.

Roy sat down at his desk and picked up the report, finally back in his comfort zone. This was about alchemy, politics, and reputations. _This_ he could do.

The DNA was made up of a mix of wolf, tiger, horse, and human. Normally, it was how powerful and violent the animals were that made the mix volatile, but Roy specialized in experimental theory and biological alchemy.

Roy may not have known the ins-and-outs of creating general circles, but he could do specifics.

The amount of knowledge and experimentation it would take to make a chimera with this many components, however, was more in Fullmetal’s range of alchemic intelligence than Roy’s. That greatly narrowed the amount of people who could have created – or at least had to be involved in creating – the chimera. It didn’t necessarily mean the creator had to be a genius, but he or she had to be incredibly knowledgeable about trans-mutational alchemy.

That made things more complicated. More dangerous.

If they – _when_ they got into a fight, it wouldn’t be snap-and-thank-God-it’s-over. There would be alchemic counters that only Roy’s field experience would help him live through and maneuvers that he had only practiced before. There would be more chimeras.

This one had taken a major toll on Edward, who was no pushover, and Roy was willing to bet that it had been released into the world only after the alchemy that brought it together had been proven not to be a fluke.

This wasn’t an amateur fooling around with the thought of creating life. This was a master who had only just decided to make himself or herself known. The political perks of taking out the chimeras and their creator(s) would be magnanimous. The lives that would be lost or ruined if he failed to do so would—

“ _He told us to run. Brother’s out there alone, and I—Please. We have to go! Please!”_

Edward. Fullmetal would try and face this head on with little to no thought as to what could occur should they overpower him. He wouldn’t let this injustice stand or any more innocent lives be put at risk. He would rush forward and, should his devil’s luck fail him, likely be killed. The power of this chimera alone – the damage it did – was enough to warrant that belief.

Roy’s eyes focused on the lab report, and the Colonel made himself keep looking despite the horrifying knowledge that he would sleep better without.

It had human DNA.

The stronger a Core was, the more alchemic ability a being had, the better a chimera would stay together. The stronger it would be. If Edward were captured instead of killed— _If Edward were captured_ —

Obsidian eyes clenched shut for a split second to get a handle on the sheer number of images flashing through his mind. When they reopened, he again focused on the report in front of him, albeit at a different part.

 _Why the fuck_ did Edward have to have such a strong Core—such a rare Core? If the enemy found out about it and Edward couldn’t win, it would be the devil’s luck alone that would allow him to be a casualty of the battle.

While Fire Cores didn’t particularly work better for a human transmutation than other Cores, their holders generally tended to have more alchemic prowess – one thing that made them all the more covetable.

In truth, there wasn’t much reason beyond societal to want a Fire Core. Activation Fire Core holders had an easier time bonding and generally had a knack for alchemy, but they weren’t incredibly better off in the long run. Energy Fire Core holders – well, if not for their political power, no one would ever want to be one. They had an incredibly hard time bonding, didn’t generally have very strong Cores, and had an even slighter natural talent for alchemy than Activation Fire Core holders.

Edward just had to be the exception to two of those generalizations. It frustrated Roy to no end that Fullmetal had to be so naturally odd. What Core a person got, if he or she got one, was completely random – there was no genetic, environmental, or any other factor found to reliably influence Core inheritance. The same could be said for whether or not a person got an Activation or Energy Core.

Activation Core holders had it better off in the long run. They chose when to bond and who to bond with while Energy Core holders had no choice in the matter. Activation Cores allotted a natural talent for controlling (to some extent) the element affiliated with the Core without the use of alchemy.

Energy Cores were known to be able to do this only on occasion and only if the Core was extremely strong. Some theories actually revolved around Energy Cores only existing for the purpose of bonding to and strengthening Activation Cores.

Whatever their purpose, there was a certain entrancement with rare Cores and, like any other subject, strong ones. Edward, with his molten gold eyes and endless defiance, would be considered the perfect addition to any chimera. Roy would sooner watch the world burn than see that happen.

He would sooner burn it down himself.

For now though, he would bide his time; gather more information. Only fools rush into battle headfirst. Fools and Edward, which made the matter of figuring out what they were getting into quickly all the more pressing. He would funnel as many resources as possible into ending this chimera ordeal swiftly, and Edward—Edward would be fine.

Winry was the leading specialist on automail, and she would do anything for Fullmetal. That coupled with the fact that she was determined to go to the ball meant he would probably be fixed up before Saturday. As long as Roy could keep trouble away from him until then, he could rest easy.

Well, easier.

Even once this chimera problem blew over, he would have to continue with his rise to Führer and, on a Fullmetal related note, make Edward fall in love with him without them ever touching. Roy tangled his fingers in thick, soft locks for a moment as he once again took in the fact that Edward had the worst fucking Core imaginable (for Roy’s purposes, at least).

He would gladly give up all the power and prestige and political prowess that would come with bonding to an Energy Fire Core if it would allow him to better get close to Fullmetal.

Edward, well, there was a high probability that he would gladly give them up, too.

Obsidian eyes ran over the papers stating how awfully outmatched the blonde – who always _insisted_ on going at things alone – may be one more time before moving on. There wasn’t enough information to do anything at this point, so there wasn’t a reason to keep focusing on it.

Roy closed the file and put it at the edge of his desk, moving it into a desk drawer mere minutes later as he found himself glancing at it anyhow. When his mind still wandered over to the picture of the body and the memory of how bad a shape Edward had been in afterwards, he decided that other work could be done.

He grabbed his coat and strolled out of the room. The press conference would be in a few hours, and he wanted to do some research first. What Edward had taught him about creating transmutation circles would help, but he still needed to know as much as he could about chimeras. Whatever he had now wasn’t enough.

And if he happened to run across information on Fire Energy Cores or partial bonding, he certainly wouldn’t complain.

The State Alchemist’s library was a place that Roy didn’t often visit. He had plenty of books in his home and any books he didn’t have he could get discreetly delivered. Now though, he didn’t need any evidence that he had been anywhere near these books. At least, not the Core-related ones. His feet carried him casually through the magnificent building, rows and rows of books towering over him, until he found himself in a rarely visited section – one on Cores.

The books on chimeras would have to be after this little adventure, as he wanted to be seen leaving with them. They were also located in a restricted section where entering would make his presence known to more than just the library staff. He would only take a book or two, though multiple others would be noted. He needed the public to believe this was merely _extra_ research; that he already knew the situation and had a fairly solid plan.

He scanned the titles, searching for anything specifically pertaining to Fire Energy Cores or partial bonding. He found three books. The edges of usually controlled lips tugged downwards without the consent of their owner. He had seen two of these with Edward before. The third was well-worn enough that Roy would bet a lot that Edward had been through it multiple times as well. He had probably scoured the entire section already, honestly.

Staring at the three well-worn books, Roy wondered what all Edward had gone through in his life. He wondered just how many trials had bombarded the boy and tried to imagine Fullmetal ever actually breaking down under the pressure of it all.

One day, he swore he would know for sure. One day, Edward would sit down and tell him everything, from beginning to end. Or maybe it would come in bits and pieces. Maybe they would be lying in bed, teetering on the edge of sleep, or sitting in the living room, pouring over books, and Edward would start a story. Maybe only part of a story. Roy would take whatever the Major was willing to give, and it would continue that way until he knew everything.

One day, Roy would do the same. Edward would learn things about him that not even Maes knew, and, with his thirst for knowledge, he would _want_ to know, too.

Roy slid to the floor, for once not a rising Führer but a simple man, unsure of his future or if he could, in all reality, achieve his goals. The first book fell open with ease, the index directing Roy towards page one hundred nine to learn about Fire Energy Cores. He knew the basics, of course: that they could only bond with Fire Activation Cores; that there were only a handful in the world; that they weren’t generally very strong; that they had a slightly stronger affiliation for fire alchemy than others.

Before, he had neither believed there was much else to it nor really cared. Now, though, there had to be more than what he knew. There had to be more information to gather because he couldn’t get anywhere on his current knowledge.

_Fire Energy Cores are the rarest Core currently known. They are also the weakest. Out of all known Cores, this type holder shows the least alchemic prowess, often times lacking the ability to perform alchemy in its slightest form. Their Cores, at least for their owners’ alchemy-related purposes, are fairly useless. For an Activation Fire Core holder, however, the opposite is true._

_When Activation and Energy Fire Cores are bonded, it appears as though the Activation Fire Core’s energy is funneled through the Energy Fire Core, enhancing the original energy source by unpredictable amounts. For the same reason, no other Core can bond with an Energy Fire Core – they cannot survive the funneling which appears to be a part of the bonding process._

_To attempt to bond with an Energy Fire Core without an Activation Fire Core would be both self-destructive and useless, as the Energy Fire Core is the only known Core with the ability to reject an Activation Core’s request for a bond. At the same time, if the proper Activation Core makes the request, the Fire Energy Core is even swifter to respond with a (unusually strong) bond than most._

_As a consequence of the rarity of Energy Fire Cores, not much is known about them. There is no particular ethnicity or area of the world from which they primarily spawn. They tend to, for unknown reasons, become stronger alchemists or even gain the ability to perform alchemy upon bonding. There is a caveat to bonding, however, and it is that, unlike other Core types, Energy Fire Cores are unable to break a bond once it is formed. It, as far as research has shown, will not weaken and cannot be alchemically broken._

Roy paused his reading, unsure if the same went for partial bonds. Should the answer not come up in one of these books, he would say the same thought was probably plaguing Edward.

The answer turned out not to be in this particular book or the next one or the one after that. He was only skimming, but Roy had gotten very, very good at picking out important details over the years.

There was honestly very little more known about Fire Energy Cores – something which frustrated Roy to no end – and an equally limited vault of information existed on partial bonding.

Most of the time, a partial bond occurred because two Core holders were incompatible, and it was always on the side of the Energy Core holder. None of them (recorded) had ever involved a Fire Energy Core. Their effects ranged from being mildly irritating to leaving the holder of the partial bond bedridden. Some of the bonds went away with time; some stayed until another bond replaced it. It seemed to depend on the strength of the Activation Core.

With how strong Roy’s Core was before his Inheritance, he doubted that Edward’s partial bond would fall under the former. What they all had in common was the incredible pain that accompanied ending the initiated bonding process without completion.

In other words, the books told him nothing helpful.

He placed them back on the shelves carefully, being sure to remove fingerprints and to align them exactly as he found them, before moving on to the restricted section. He walked casually through three other sections first, wasting well over ten minutes just throwing off the scent should anyone be watching him.

When he flashed his identification, he could feel their curiosity. When he strode purposefully towards the section dealing with chimeras, he could almost feel the _whispering_. His arrival was news that those lingering outside the restricted section thirsted for. They would be there to see him leave with the books, too.

Within the restricted section, things were much quieter. No one batted an eye at his entrance. No, it was more like they were expecting him. Something Roy hadn’t anticipated was that he already had seven of the more promising books sitting in his library.

It had previously occurred to him that many of the books that Edward owned pertained to chimeras, but he hadn’t thought they would overlap so heavily with those in the restricted section. That also raised the question of what the other few books on chimeras were.

Fullmetal clearly had high standards for the books he allowed into his possession, so there was a possibility that the remaining books had material even more dangerous – even more useful – than the ones here. Roy picked up two books that both seemed favorable and didn’t belong to Edward and turned to leave. He would delve into them and hopefully the ones Fullmetal owned after the press conference.

If Roy stayed either in his room or the living room, being sure to give the Elric family their space, it should be fine.

As he expected, there were quite a few reporters awaiting his leave from the library. Questions filled the air so quickly that Roy could scarcely hear anything else. He could pick out bits and pieces of what they wanted to know – all about the chimera attack or the upcoming dance – but they were all talking over each other. He held up a hand to gently silence them, being sure to accompany it with a charming smile. He adjusted the books at his side indiscreetly to draw some attention to them as well.

“As I’m sure you all know, there will be a press conference in less than an hour, and I’ll be able to answer all of your questions there.” He could answer a few now and get in extra publicity, but… “For now, though, I have work which must be done, lest our beautiful city receive less protection than it deserves.”

Turning down a free press conference may even give him more publicity than having it would.

The questions started firing again almost immediately after he spoke, but Roy kept his smile firmly in place and made his way through the crowd. The harsh world of politics offered the knowledge that this wasn’t about the chimera attack – not really. It wasn’t even about the ball. This was about Roy’s stance as a competitor for the position of Führer.

With how much else was at stake here, Roy could fully understand Fullmetal’s hatred for politics, but this was his world. Roy thrived in the cutthroat, self-centered, uncaring environment, and one day, he was going to make it better.

They were staring after him now, and that was the right idea. Just ask Fullmetal: If Roy knew how to do nothing else, he could put on a show.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Ed woke up wishing he was stronger. Even with two arms, he had barely been able to fend off the chimera. Maybe if he had been smarter about it, he would have used long-range alchemy instead of his usual hand-to-hand, but it hadn’t occurred to him at the time to leave his comfort zone when facing such a physically gifted opponent.

Logically, he knew that he had done well. The chimera was dead, Mustang got all the credit he could want, and Al and Winry were safe.

But what if there had been two?

What if while he had been struggling with this chimera, another one had attacked Winry and his brother? Even if the second one had waited, could he have protected them in the state he was in post-battle?

He doubted it.

“Fullmetal?”

Ed turned his head to stare at the still-closed door, never more thankful for Mustang’s superficial politeness.

“What?”

“May I come in?”

If it wasn’t Mustang asking, Ed would almost think he sounded timid. Ed glanced at his lack-of-arm before deciding that he would have a harder time living with himself knowing he was a coward than knowing Mustang pitied him.

“Do what you want.”

Ed sat up as Mustang came in, and they both pretended not to notice the way black eyes swept over Ed’s mangled shoulder. Mustang had a few books and notepads in his arms, and he didn’t hesitate to move Ed’s books off of the bedside table to make room for them; pulling up a chair soon after. Ed only had to glance at the titles to realize what this was about.

“Fucking seriously, Mustang? You couldn’t even wait until I have two arms to have me start tracking down the rest of your chimeras? Damn military—”

“I don’t want you going near the other chimeras. I sent Al and Winry out to eat and collect whatever else they need for the ball.”

Ed opened his mouth to protest them going out on their own when Mustang said, “Havoc is with them. They only agreed to go because I assured them that I would only go near you if you asked me to.”

“Doin’ a real bang-up job there, aren’t you?”

“They never would have left if I had told them I intended to grill you for information on chimeras, would they?”

Ed had nothing to say to that, so Mustang took out his notepad and pen.

“I’m not asking you to help catch them. In fact, if you see one, I’d like you to turn in the opposite direction and run as fast as you can. I doubt you will, but it’s what I would like.”

Mustang shot him a look, and Ed scowled.

“Well, what the hell do you want then?”

“Tell me everything you know about chimeras. The faster I get reliable information, the faster I can end this, and the safer everyone will be.”

They took a full minute to stare each other down before, “So, you really don’t want my help hunting them?”

“Believe it or not, I didn’t get to where I am today on good looks alone.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s that stunning personality of yours, right?”

Mustang’s lips quirked up bitterly for a moment of a moment.

“Something like that.”

And then they got started. Ed recounted everything he knew about chimeras and told tales of near every chimera he had met, or at least the ones he could remember. When Al came in, all but growling at Mustang’s intrusion, Ed waved him off. Winry looked worriedly between them but chose to slip by and finish Ed’s arm instead. Mustang dutifully wrote down every word, not seeming the least bit bothered by Al’s irritation.

The last story Ed told was the hardest, but it was too important to leave out.

“…but you can’t overlook family members, either. If someone goes missing – if there’s a human chimera – you have to take into account that the person might not have been kidnapped.”

Ed paused and turned his eyes to the ceiling as Winry made sure that his arm had all the right dimensions to match his shoulder.

“There was this little girl, you see. She was the sweetest kid you’d ever meet; maybe even sweeter than Elicia. And she had a dog.”

Al tensed, casting his eyes to the floor.

“It was a stupidly big, fluffy dog that loved just as unheedingly as the little girl. You’d think, anyone who could hurt this little girl and her fluff-ball dog has to be a monster. It would have to be so heinous a monster that you would feel its presence bearing down on you long before you saw it. Only it wasn’t.”

Ed slowed his breathing and blinked, feeling the urge to cry even after all this time.

“It was her dad.”

“Brother…”

“I’m ready to put your arm back on, Ed. Why don’t put off the rest of this session for later? We even brought food back for you. You know, for after the surgery.”

Ed looked to Winry and nodded, ready to be done with remembering things, and moved to stand. Mustang had allowed them to turn his study room into a temporary surgical station, so they would need to head there to make him whole again.

“If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

And he would. As much as he disliked Mustang as a person, Mustang as a military official wasn’t so bad.

Or maybe it was the other way around. Truthfully, Ed didn’t much care. All he knew was that one of Mustang’s personas genuinely didn’t want him involved in this chimera business, and that felt good. Well, it felt good as long as he could stop himself from looking into Mustang’s motives.

“That manipulating, conniving, dirty… dirt-bag!” Al started his rant almost before the door to Mustang’s study closed. “I knew he was plotting something the second he offered to pay for our expenses! But no— _no_ , I couldn’t just go with my gut. I had to be nice and give him the _benefit of the doubt_. I’m so stupid! He said he wouldn’t go near your room and idiot-me actually believed him! Ugh!”

Light laughter skipped out of Ed’s chest without his permission, and Al looked torn between anger, confusion, and fondness.

“Not that I’m complaining about this new Mustang-hating agenda, but aren’t you the one who told me to give him a chance when this whole living-together thing started?”

Ed’s grin widened as the tips of Al’s ears turned red.

“Yeah, but… That was different, okay? If he hadn’t kept us at the house, we could have went back and helped you out, and then maybe you’d still have both your arms! I can’t trust a guy who’ll sit back and relax while you’re out there fighting.”

Ed knew by the way Al was scrunching his lips to the side that he was doing his lying-but-not-lying trick where he found a random topic that fit the conversation but wasn’t what he had been originally thinking about. Ed was distracted, however, by the new piece of information being presented.

“He made you stay here?”

“Yeah.” Winry chimed in, happy to have a part in the brothers’ conversation. “He even threatened to physically restrain us when Al refused to settle down. He was all like, ‘If you think I don’t have the force necessary to keep you here until word of your brother arrives, you’re mistaken.’ And the words might not sound all that threatening, but he said it in this tone that lets you know he meant business.” Her smile turned teasing. “Al would have challenged him, but he was too _scared_.”

Al’s cheeks lit up as brightly as his ears, and he turned to Winry with far more embarrassment than before.

“I wasn’t scared! I could have taken him! I just didn’t want to make more trouble than necessary for Brother, and I knew he could handle himself without us.”

Though Al’s voice hitched up a little, he was telling the truth. At least, mostly. He had probably felt more than a little apprehension about going up against the famous Flame Alchemist. At the same time, if he had felt that Ed really, truly needed him, he would have pushed back against Mustang’s threat.

Ed grinned and laughed again.

“No worries, Al. I’m glad you stayed back. Besides, your big brother can handle anything!”

Ed gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up, and Winry’s giggling re-alerted them to the shifting metal in her arms. Al’s smile faded some, but Ed’s only got toothier.

Yeah, he had moments where he hated himself; where he looked in the mirror and all he could see was his mangled body, but this wasn’t one of them. Right now, he was Edward Elric, older brother of Alphonse Elric and best friend of Winry Rockbell, and he was loved.

That was the best time to go into a painful surgery, in Ed’s opinion.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy closed his eyes as he listened to the near-overwhelming silence filling his office. He had left home shortly after the screams had begun. They were muffled; clearly being bitten back, and he could only wonder over the extent of the pain. What would it take to make such a strong man scream so loudly for so long?

At least, Roy assumed it continued for an extended period. It had only taken him a handful of minutes to gather everything and leave.

All he really knew was that his respect for Winry had grown exponentially. Roy wasn’t sure how well he would handle having to inflict so much pain on the brilliant blonde, no matter how much good it would do. Of course, if he were in the study room, holding Edward’s hand, maybe the pain wouldn’t be so unbearable.

Except then Edward would know that Roy _knew_ and run in the opposite direction as quickly as possible, most likely cursing Roy’s name and assumed intentions as he went.

For a moment, he had considered staying at the house and working there, but only a moment. It was a stupid idea, of course, as he wouldn’t get nearly as much work done with that amount of distraction. Yet he had been tempted by thoughts of playing a role by Edward’s side.

What if, after the surgery, Edward walked by him to get something to eat and their shoulders brushed? What if Edward would want to use him to lessen the pain? Roy couldn’t approach him and offer, but if Edward chose to use him, that was a different story. It was a miniscule chance, but if Fullmetal had a moment of weakness, Roy wanted to be there for it.

Which was exactly why he had forced himself to leave.

Roy had delusions neither over his current place in Edward’s life nor what would happen if they became closer via physical contact. No matter how real it was, Edward would run. Over and over again, ever since Edward’s secrets had come to light, Roy had repeated that to himself. Because if Edward ran, there would be no catching him.

This was a game of Stop and Go, and Roy had to know exactly where the lines in the sand were drawn and when to cross them or it would all be over. For now, Edward didn’t want less pain. He wanted trust.

That, in all honesty, was another big problem. Trusting was hard. Trusting Roy was harder.

Anyone could believe that Roy would do his best to keep people safe, but manipulation came with that. Roy would string along the cast in the most believable way possible, and no one could expect to get a script every single time. Even Maes was left in the dark every now and again; more often than not, if one included the times that Roy had simply trusted his best friend to catch on.

Roy’s lips pursed as he frowned. Thinking about it wouldn’t help. Even if he figured out some brilliant new strategy for wooing Edward, he had promised not to use it. What he needed to do was focus on something more pertinent. The chimera case, for example. Or even the ball. It was less than twenty four hours away, and he still hadn’t called Ariel to set the details.

And with how well the press conference had went concerning his dealings with the chimera and apparent alliance with the Fullmetal Alchemist, how he presented himself at the ball would be even more important than they had originally thought.

Of course, that, too, depended on Edward. The highest likelihood was that Fullmetal would do his best to avoid anything and everything political (including Roy) and it would proceed the same as any other ball.

There was a small chance, however, that Edward would be wrangled into a conversation and say whatever popped into his head, most likely trashing Roy’s reputation in the process. The Alchemist of the People may not have as much sway as he had two years ago, but he was still dangerous. A truly bad review from him could easily set Roy back another year.

It was a small chance because while Edward didn’t like military officials as a general rule, he rarely outright targeted someone in his rants. Then again, no one else had dragged his family into possible danger without his permission, uprooted his life, continuously manipulated him, forced him to be at the ball in the first place, took credit for his actions, and accidentally partially bonded them together.

Really, the only way Edward going to the ball might have worked in his favor is if the blonde alchemist hadn’t caught onto his scheme in the first place. Then he could have used their class connection and his family’s presence to get Edward to agree to be his date.

Now though, a neutral outcome was the best he could hope for.

Well, neutral and maybe catching molten gold irises roaming over Roy’s body again. The obvious attraction always made Roy feel a little better, even if he couldn’t use it. And Roy’s eyes would certainly be wandering, too. He had never seen the elder Elric in anything other than casual clothes, and he was looking forward to seeing the man in something more elegant.

He couldn’t imagine Edward looking bad in anything, but he was fairly sure that the blonde wouldn’t be able to help his natural awkwardness. He would feel uncomfortable in something so formal and unsure of how to move in anything remotely restricting. He would be embarrassed, though only for a bit, and have an intense determination not to show it. He’d probably spend the entire night pouting, except for his dances with Elicia, and be sure to bare his canines every time his eyes met Roy’s.

Fullmetal would be a star of the ball for a bit, if only because he had never before attended despite numerous invitations, but only Roy would feel the need to keep staring once the novelty wore off. Only he would be continuously entranced by Edward’s innocence and brash honesty.

As Roy dialed Ariel’s number, he found himself thankful that she had only ever seen them as sex friends. There was no way she could spend an entire night by his side and remain ignorant of his _interest_ , and a jealous date was the last thing he needed.

“Hello?”

“I swear your voice gets lovelier each time I hear it.”

Roy smiled as Ariel giggled, glad to have his focus redirected onto someone who actually found his charms charming.

“Is this your way of apologizing for leaving me in suspense for so long? I had to pick out my dress all by my lonesome.”

“You talk as though there’s a dress in existence that wouldn’t look exquisite on you.”

She giggled again, and Roy purposefully swiveled his chair so that he couldn’t see the files decorating his desk.

“Oh, Roy. While I appreciate the compliments, there’s no need to feel bad about the delay. After what happened with the chimera, I almost expected just to meet you at the ball. You must be swamped with work.”

“No worse than is to be expected around this time of year, and nothing requiring my focus tomorrow night.”

At that, she outright laughed.

“Really now? And here I thought you invited me to the ball because of my excellent political and personal skills.”

And Roy chuckled as well; a chuckle that, on a less stressful evening, might even have been real.

“You’re also physically stunning.”

“Oh, Roy. Save that for after the ball, would you?”

Roy didn’t bother to tell her that they wouldn’t be rendezvousing at her place at the end of the night. He could break that news tomorrow.

“I assume six is still alright with you?”

“Of course. And the restaurant is—”

“A surprise.”

Ariel didn’t want to be dominated, but she liked a man who knew how to take control.

“I look forward to it. Oh, and Roy?” Roy allotted her a questioning hum. “My dress is a golden, sunset orange.”

She proceeded to hang up without a proper goodbye, most likely to leave an enticing, teasing impression.

His chair swiveled back to the numerous papers and folders and books that still needed to be looked at, and Roy went back to work. Fullmetal had spelled out a basic profile of what to look for, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“ _Odd as it may seem, the people who create chimeras usually fall into two easy categories. They’re either ripping through the process and wanting to create as many as they can or are slow and scientific about it. The first ones are the easiest: they’re the crazies at the edge of town, and you can just about always find at least a couple people willing to point a finger in the right direction. The other category, which is way more likely in this situation, fucking sucks._

“ _It’s made up of the power-players; assholes who think they’re so far above everyone else that they physically need people under them. They’re usually the higher-ups and, especially in this town, military officials. With how advanced the chimeras are and considering this is the first one you’ve officially seen, I would wager the creator is someone you’re going to have a rough time pinning down.”_

If Edward were right, and Roy had the sinking feeling he was, the more he looked into this, the more dangerous it would be. Should the perpetrator be in the military – especially higher up in the military than he, himself – investigating this was the same as painting a target on his back.

And the ball—It was a good thing he talked to Edward when he did. Otherwise, he may not have changed “Minimal detail” to “It’s confidential” and there was no telling who would have been accidentally alerted.

What he did know was that the animals used for the chimera weren’t household pets. If it were really a military or government official, there would be records of these animals being bought or transferred. Maybe not paper trails, but someone would know. Someone would remember.

Unlike most people thought, the first step wasn’t who bought it but who sold it. What beasts had gone missing or experienced sudden deaths, and what masters came into an unexplained amount of money?

Roy had always liked puzzles, and he spent the next few hours diligently working on this one. Whether his work brought him any closer to the correct answer remained unseen. All he could say for sure was that by the time he reached his house again, he was tired. Incredibly so, and the day ahead of him wasn’t looking any shorter.

Despite that, seeing Fullmetal writing something in the kitchen made him hesitate.

“I see the surgery went well.”

Edward spent a few more minutes making various marks with his pen before bothering to pay Roy any attention.

“Yeah. Soreness should fade in the next couple days and then I’ll be good as new.”

Though the news was relatively good, Edward didn’t seem pleased. Not that he seemed displeased. Just… mellow. Off-put.

Roy walked closer to see an unexpectedly accurate sketch of what the chimera must have looked like before Fullmetal had gotten a hold of it. That was what he probably meant to draw, anyhow. All Roy saw was the monster Edward would be turned into should Roy be unable to protect him.

“I thought I said I didn’t want you dealing with the chimera case.”

“Problem with authority, remember?”

“Then not as an authority.” Gold skeptically met black. “As friends.”

Blonde eyebrows rose at the statement, and Roy wholeheartedly understood Ed’s unsureness concerning the Colonel’s description of their relationship. And yet, there was no other way to say it. Acquaintance was too menial. Enemy was too harsh. Partner was too ambiguous.

Edward and Roy didn’t exactly get along, but if a dire situation arose, Roy could trust that Fullmetal would do everything in his power to keep them both safe. He liked to believe Edward felt the same.

In the end, Edward made no comment on their relationship status, instead turning back to his drawing.

“It definitely contained wolf and tiger DNA. The hooves and how fast it was makes me lean towards horse, too, but I’m not sure. It was smart, too. It didn’t throw blind attacks and hope for brute force to win out.”

“We’re already checking missing person’s reports for a DNA match.”

“No use. A bastard like this isn’t going to go around snatching people with friends and family. It’ll be the homeless or the runaways. The people with nowhere else to turn.”

“You want to go look for its creator, don’t you?”

“I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“Fullmetal—”

Roy was cut off by Edward loudly closing his notebook and standing to leave. Roy followed him towards the steps, quieting his voice as not to wake the younger Elric or Winry.

“Fullmetal, you may be a State Alchemist, but at least until this year is up, you’re also a civilian. It isn’t your place to get involved.”

“Then I’ll apologize in advance for the extra paperwork you’re going to have to do.”

“You can’t—”

“What are they going to do? Kick me out?” Fullmetal stopped outside his door and turned to face Roy. “Listen Mustang, I appreciate your concern or whatever this is, but nothing has changed. I’ve been fighting chimeras since I was a kid, and there’s always been a chance that the sons-of-bitches would be stronger than me. There’s always been a chance that the creep doing all this bullshit would decide to use me in the experiment. There’s always been a chance I’ll die.

“But there’s a higher chance that I’ll live, and the only way for me to keep living with myself afterwards is knowing that I’ve always stood by my beliefs. Even if this happened after my contract ran out, I’d be doing the same thing I’m doing now. The only difference is that I’d do it without a collar around my neck.

“Whatever our reasons, we both knew that getting into this line of work could be dangerous. All I’m asking is that you don’t downplay my choice just because it’s different from yours. I know the risks of getting involved; probably better than you at this point. I know what I’m doing. So cut it out. Stop trying to protect me or show off or whatever it is you’re doing.”

Edward turned to his door, curled his fingers around the doorknob and turned back.

“You said you like me, right? Then start acting like it. Treat me like an equal to stand by, not a child to fucking coddle.”

And then Edward disappeared into his room, closing the door smoothly behind him.

Perhaps if he had stayed around a moment longer, he would have seen the raw surprise and then prideful relief overtaking Roy’s body. Roy cared for Edward, and he cared a lot. That had clouded his judgment.

Yes, Edward was a prime target, but he was also the Fullmetal Alchemist, and Fullmetal had _always_ been a prime target.

Wasn’t his capability; his _resilience_ one of the reasons Roy liked him so much? And yet, he had ignored that in favor of worrying; like Edward was really just a pretty face or an oddly smart boy. He had forgotten, momentarily, that Edward Elric and the Fullmetal Alchemist were one and the same, and he had disregarded Edward’s life work up until this point by egotistically assuming that he was the only one who could be in the line of fire and come out safely on the other side.

Edward was an ally, not a liability.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ariel was beautiful. There was no denying that. She had curled her short blonde hair to an elegant wave that complemented the contours of her face exquisitely. Her dress was sleeveless and gold, color modulating into a sunset orange as it worked its way to her feet. The material was soft and flowy with just the right amount of shine and left only enough to the imagination to be enticing. She was the perfect choice.

The burnt orange of Roy’s tie was darker than the orange of Ariel’s dress, but only just so. It was close enough to pass off as purposeful, especially with the red transmutation circles on his gloves taking them to the end of the color spectrum. Adding that complementary style to his custom-made, fitted suit, Roy looked nothing less than dashing.

He couldn’t blame anyone who was staring: not when he stepped out of the car to pick her up, not when they were eating, and certainly not when they stepped into the building to be introduced. They were a power couple, if Roy did say so himself.

“Colonel Roy Mustang and his date, Ariel Sanderson.”

They stepped into the room, earning plenty of whispers and craning necks. Ariel held his arm closer as they made their way down the large staircase, her gold, manicured nails wrinkling the material of his suit jacket as she went. It looked nice for his image, but Roy hated the feel. When he chose to be immaculate, he wanted to stay that way.

He smiled anyhow.

“Colonel! So glad you could make it!”

The Führer was the first to greet them, his usual eyepatch almost managing to look nice when paired with his clearly expensive suit. Roy’s inner stylist cringed at the few baby hairs that Bradley never managed to slick back, glad that he had left his own hair in its usual kempt-yet-unkempt style.

In actuality, he had tried slicking it back a few years ago, but the shorter hairs in his own bangs hadn’t cooperated, and have matching hairstyles with his opponent would be a dangerous game of _Who Wore It Better_.

“It’s always a pleasure. I believe you’ve met my date, Ariel?”

Ariel moved her hand delicately towards the Führer, who accepted the gesture just as gracefully.

“Only once, but hers is not a face to forget. You’re a lucky man.”

“The luckiest.”

They both smiled, neither giving way to the true nature of their relationship, and the Führer proceeded to excuse himself to greet other guests. It was perfectly played, as it was every year. The Führer had given Roy just enough attention to let the crowd know that he knew Roy was competition but wasn’t concerned about it. That left Roy with only one viable option: smile and go along with it; all the while hoping his press coverage would be better than Bradley’s.

“Uncle Roy!”

Elicia ran over almost immediately after Bradley departed, probably only waiting that long because Maes and Gracia made her. Ariel let go of Roy’s arm and thereby suit so that he could hug Elicia, who giggled like the little girl she was.

“Oh my! I do believe my position as prettiest girl at the ball may have just been stolen.”

Ariel grinned as she brushed a few curls behind Elicia’s ear, and Maes grinned in a way only a proud father can.

“She _is_ the most beautiful girl here, isn’t she? She picked that dress out all by herself you know, and isn’t it just perfect? Not too flashy and not too old-fashioned. Though she would look just darling in a princess dress, don’t you think? Or something with a bonnet?”

Gracia quietly shushed him as she retrieved Elicia from Roy’s arms.

“I think you look lovely, Ariel.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hughes. Though I have nothing on you and your beautiful family.”

They shared a smile, and the night went on. Roy’s entire unit arrived within half an hour of his own entrance, none of them alone. Though Roy assumed Havoc had only scored a date through the prestige and impossible-to-get invitations of the ball. The voluptuous brunette Havoc had on his arm was, after all, more than a little out of his league.

They gathered and talked, separating here and there as Roy danced with Ariel or Elicia; once with Gracia, and once with Maes.

The entire Homunculi family was invited every year, but they rarely came. This year, surprisingly, four of the seven showed up, and one of them was Gerard. The man had never before attended, and Roy didn’t like any of the reasons he could come up with concerning the change of heart.

Time passed nearly uneventfully with the number of new arrivals slowing to a crawl and eventually stopping by the first hour mark. The few press allowed inside questioned or chatted with him every now and again, but it wasn’t nearly the coverage he had been hoping for. Fortunately or unfortunately one, this was turning out just like any other ball.

“Alphonse Elric and his date, Winry Rockbell.”

Roy paused his conversation with Ariel and the Hughes family to watch the younger Elric enter, an exhilarated blush dusting his cheeks. He looked nice in his suit, and while Winry didn’t have the same elegance as Ariel, she wasn’t anything to scoff at, either.

The blue and gold and black decorating them suited the two perfectly, and Roy could almost see them bonding as they walked happily to the bottom of the steps. Once they reached the floor, Roy’s eyes moved expectantly back to the double doors at the top. He barely heard Elicia’s squeal as the doors reopened.

“Major Edward Elric.”

Roy had been wrong. He may never have been more wrong in his life.

Edward was as far from as awkward as possible in a black, three-piece suit. White gloves hid his hands, and a black tie hung neatly around his neck, unaware of how enviable the position was. His golden hair, pulled back in a low ponytail with a simple black ribbon, made Ariel’s beautiful blonde locks more comparable to straw.

When he started to walk down the steps, Roy was able to see that the suit wasn’t just Edward’s size; it was made specifically _for_ Edward. It fitted to the contours of his body softly but with purpose, showing off his well-defined torso and trim waist without even trying. His suit jacket was unbuttoned, and it fluttered slightly as Edward moved quickly down the steps, in no way concerned with the slow, elegant pace expected of him.

As soon as he got to the bottom, his frown turned into a scowl.

“Can I take this off now?”

Edward’s fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket just under the lapels, and Roy was tempted to say yes for them. Winry smacked Fullmetal on the chest.

“No! Ed, you just got here. At least wait until you’ve danced a few times.”

“I wanna dance!”

Elicia piped in without ceremony, and there was no question as to whom she wanted to dance with.

Edward chuckled as she took his hand, pausing only long enough to relieve himself of the suit jacket and shove it into his brother’s arms before hurrying to the dance floor. Roy had never seen anyone look better in a white button-up and vest, and he didn’t stop looking until Edward and Elicia were well-hidden by the crowd of dancers.

The next thing to touch Roy, surprisingly, was Edward’s jacket as Alphonse pressed it none-too-gently against his chest. Roy grabbed it more out of reflex than anything else, catching the barest warning in golden eyes before the younger Elric was dragged out to dance.

When Roy’s eyes finally made their way back to the group he was previously speaking with, Maes’ over-ecstatic, family-man grin made him wish he hadn’t.

“Isn’t my Elicia just beautiful next to Ed? She’s practically glowing!”

“He is quite handsome. When I heard the name Fullmetal Alchemist I expected someone more… rugged. Of course, I also expected someone at least partially metal.” Ariel’s eyes were still locked curiously on the dance floor. “Have you met him before, Roy?”

“I have. He’s… not a fan of mine.”

That statement managed to drag her attention back to Roy, a teasing smile on her face.

“Of course not. If the rumors are true, he hates the very people he works for, and if nothing else, you’re a military man.”

Roy’s face remained blank as he accepted the truth of her words, and she re-wound her arm around his bicep.

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“I know.”

He gave her a charming smile to ease her worries, and she returned it. Roy waited only long enough to place Edward’s jacket on the back of his previously-claimed chair to lead Ariel to the dance floor as well.

As expected, Edward all but ignored Roy as the night wore on, and Roy worked hard to tear his eyes away. Edward danced with Elicia most, Winry a few times, Gracia twice, Maes once, and Gerard Homunculi an astonishing three times. On top of that, he sat at a small table with Gerard for at least forty five minutes between the second and third dances. Roy’s stomach twisted at how much attention Edward was so readily handing to Gerard, and the shit-eating grin Gerard tossed him when he noticed Roy’s glances didn’t help.

By the end of the night, Roy felt more irritation than anything else, and it was with exasperation that he followed Maes onto the dance floor for the final song. That vanished when Maes disappeared and Edward was shoved unceremoniously towards him.

Obsidian awkwardly met gold, and black brows raised as Edward didn’t turn away. Slowly, Roy held out a hand, and, much to his surprise, felt a metal appendage accept his offer. As the music began, they got into position, and Roy watched molten gold widen as the younger alchemist realized Roy wasn’t touching him.

Their hands and bodies hovered centimeters apart: close enough to feel the heat but not make contact.

“You don’t like touching me, right?”

Edward’s eyes narrowed as he tried to puzzle out Roy’s intentions and came up with no clear answers.

“Right.”

The dance started, and Roy was again surprised. Just as Edward didn’t appear awkward, he didn’t move awkwardly. His steps were perfectly in time, as though their movements were more flowing than dancing.

“I didn’t know you could dance.”

“You don’t know a lot of things.” Edward’s comeback was snide, but there was no bite behind it. “Why do you get to lead?”

Edward must have expected Roy’s masculinity and natural affinity for leadership to shine through in his answer because he looked more than a little shocked as Roy switched their positions. It wasn’t the surprise, however, that made the flow they had created stutter to a stop.

The next few steps were messy and had golden eyes trained only on feet. Edward switched their positions back soon after, and Roy easily re-established their correct place in the dance. A blush crept onto tan skin as Edward refused to look away from Roy’s chest.

“Al wanted to know how to dance so that he could impress Winry, and I was the only person around to practice with. I only know the woman’s part.”

Roy smiled at that, genuinely so, and added a flourish to their turn. As Edward raised his eyes, Roy could only think that their barely-not-touching might actually be more intimate than touching would have been.

“I can teach you to lead one day, if you’ll allow it.”

“That’s… that’s okay. I don’t dance much.”

“You should.”

The rest of the dance was silent, but it was comfortable. Edward may only know how to follow, but he was brilliant at it. He caught onto Roy’s body movements and moods as easily as if they had been dancing together for years. There were no mistakes, and if Roy decided to embellish a move, Edward knew how to flow with it. It was perfect.

And if they stood closer than necessary for a few moments after the song had ended, that was their business.

Roy bowed to his partner, and Edward returned the gesture. The other dancers started to vacate the floor, all ready to prep for the trip home. Roy waited for Edward to make the first move to leave. He was pleasantly surprised when the blonde pursed his lips unsurely and reached up to scratch above his ponytail.

“I just… thanks.” He looked off to the side to hide his embarrassment. “You know, for keeping them safe.”

Edward’s hand dropped limply to his side, and he made eye contact once more before nodding and walking away.

Roy reconvened with Ariel, grabbed the jacket that Edward seemed to care little-to-nothing about, and made his way outside. Bradley was already there, crowded by the press, and Roy made sure to hide his displeasure when only a few deemed him important enough to leave Bradley for. He was able to answer a handful of questions before his attention drifted to the three blondes emerging from the building.

“One moment, please.”

Roy smiled at the paparazzi as he turned to walk towards Fullmetal, smoothly handing over the jacket. Though it wasn’t Roy’s intention, he couldn’t complain when pictures were taken.

“Thanks, Mustang.”

Edward slipped the jacket on without complaint, clearly thinking that was the end of their interactions, when Bradley made his way over as well.

“Why if it isn’t Edward Elric! After so many years of you turning down our invitations, I didn’t expect to see you.”

Bradley laughed as though it were an inside joke, and Edward frowned.

“Yeah, well, my family wanted to come, so here I am.”

“Ah, yes. Always the family man. Well, I hope it lived up to expectations.”

Bradley’s heavy hand clapped Edward on the shoulder, and Edward glared at the unwelcome appendage.

“Yeah. Great fun. Now, if you don’t mind—”

“Fullmetal! Fullmetal, what are your thoughts on the upcoming election for Führer?”

A member of the press shouted the question into the conversation, and all microphones were forward as they awaited his response.

“I don’t vote.”

“Is that the truth, or are you just saying it to keep the peace at home?”

Fullmetal’s features twisted in dumbfounded confusion.

“What?”

“Is it true that Colonel Mustang forced you to live with him, and you’re saying you don’t vote so you don’t upset him?”

It was a woman this time, and Edward’s facial expression went from that’s-the-dumbest-thing-I’ve-ever-heard to pissed off in seconds.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Mustang didn’t force me into _anything_. I’m living with him for a grade in a class at Central’s Academy for Alchemists. And while he wasn’t my first choice, if I really, _really_ wanted to avoid living with him, I could have dropped the damn class and gotten the credit elsewhere. He’s no pocketful of sunshine, but he isn’t a fucking psycho, either. And for the record, he couldn’t force me to do something if he fucking tried.”

Edward roughly shrugged the Führer’s hand off of his shoulder, and Bradly laughed merrily.

“Of course not, Major. None of us would assume that The Hero of Ishval would do something like that. They’re just surprised at your living situation. You two aren’t exactly known for getting along.” Bradley’s smile took on a hint of condescension as he glanced at Roy. “As for the voting, no one means to upset you; they’re just curious to hear the views of someone with an objective standpoint on the matter. After all, while it’s reasonable for a war hero to be a Colonel, some people are thinking the position of Führer might be a little ambitious.”

Roy physically braced himself for Fullmetal’s response as he saw the blonde man’s lips thin into a tense line.

“No, you’re right. It is ambitious for a war hero to go for the Führer’s position.”

Bradley’s grin widened, and Roy closed his eyes, unable to watch the hit his career was about to take.

“And when you think about it, he owes the position he’s got now to you. You’re the one who gave him the opportunity to be a war hero in the first place. You made him what he is today.”

Pens were flying across paper, and Roy glanced back when he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. Hawkeye nodded to him, assuring him that this didn’t matter, and the rest of his unit stood behind her with straight backs and battle-ready grins. It didn’t matter what Fullmetal said tonight. This was a setback, not the end.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

“No, you can’t. Because you’re the one who issued Order 3066, right? The one that turned alchemists into human weapons against not only enemy soldiers but the entirety of Ishval?”

Bradley’s smile immediately became strained, and Roy’s head turned back quickly enough to give him whiplash.

“Or did you forget that’s what made him a war hero? Because you keep calling him that. ‘War hero’ this; ‘War hero’ that. Do you have any idea what being a war hero entails?”

Edward continued before Bradley could respond.

“Of course you don’t. You just sat in your office, sending oddly powerful, terrified children out to do your dirty work for you. So, let me spell it out. That _war hero_ was a little boy who was convinced that if he didn’t murder people for his country, his friends and family would be at risk. He was a _child_ who was forced to use what he should have felt was a gift as a weapon. He didn’t take girls on dates or go to games with friends because he was busy honing his skills for a war that he probably _couldn’t even comprehend_.

“Worse than that, he found out that he was _good_ at it. He got sent to the front lines and congratulated for causing harm to others. And even with those horrifying experiences under his belt, he didn’t run. When he got out, he went right back in, going through actual training at the appropriate age. He wanted to make sure not only that no one else would have to go through what he went through but that no other sect of peoples would be so cruelly persecuted. You caused that.

“You made him fiercely protective of his friends by giving him the knowledge of how easy they are to lose. You turned him into a leader by forcing him to realize that letting someone else do it leads to corruption and death. You made him a family man by forcing him to tear families apart, and you made him your _competition_ by being a complete and total fucking asshole who only cares about the amount of power at your fingertips. _When_ he becomes Führer, the only person you’ll be able to blame is yourself because _you made him_.

“Yeah, the position of Führer is ambitious for a war hero, but he isn’t _just_ a war hero. That’s not what defines him. Not then; not now. Mustang may be a manipulative bastard, but he’s no monster. He could never make himself pull the kind of shit you did. It may not be this election or the one after that, but one day he’s going to rip that Führer’s position right out from under you, and when he does, he’s going to use it to help people. _Really_ help, not just shine up bullshit for douchebag paparazzi to glorify.

“Will he fuck up? Yeah. All the time. But he’ll fix it when he does. The right way. He’ll work as hard for the people as the people do for him, and you’ll have a damn hard time finding someone who’ll do it better. You goaded these idiots into asking me about the next election because you thought I hate Mustang and would slander him for you. Maybe instead of putting your competition down, you should be taking notes. For one, I hate being manipulated.”

Ed turned angrily to the press.

“And I don’t vote because I don’t fucking want to, _thank you very much_.”

Edward swiveled back to Bradley, staring him straight in the eyes as he dared the man to refute something he had said. Maybe Bradley could save the situation, but not with Fullmetal there to rebut his points.

Seeing the Führer didn’t intend to respond, Edward grabbed the arm of his brother’s jacket and began pushing his way through the press, Winry holding tightly to Alphonse’s hand as not to get lost in the mob.

“Fullmetal—”

“Major Elric—”

“Mr. Elric, wait—”

“Fuck off!” And with that simple phrase, Fullmetal broke free of the mob of paparazzi and began walking home. The press took pictures of the trio’s retreating figures for as long as they could, and Roy took that reprieve to put his hand to his face; covering the grin that he just couldn’t stop. It was a grin that would relay the butterflies taking over his stomach and a grin that would surely turn to disbelieving, ecstatic laughter should he not repress it quickly enough.

Hawkeye’s hand tightened on his shoulder before she moved back, and Ariel leant more against him. He didn’t even mind the wrinkles. He didn’t even care that he had been ignored the majority of the ball. Fullmetal had not only stood up for him but done so against the Führer.

By the time the press turned back – the ones who didn’t feel they had enough of a story already – Roy’s next move was already planned out. All the press coverage he needed (more than that, really) had already been handed to him, and the only way to put Bradley down further was to show that this really _wasn’t_ what defined him.

He walked away.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Ed wasn’t stupid. He knew what he had done the night before would cause more trouble than telling off the Führer had been worth. At the same time, the man had pissed him off. It wasn’t even about Mustang being misrepresented. It was about the war being shoved under the rug.

Like it didn’t matter anymore.

But it did. Ed had been to Ishval. He had met survivors of the massacre, and he had felt pure, all-consuming rage at the injustices committed. Some had wanted the blood shed; relished in it, even. Mustang was not one of those people. He had been, what, fourteen? Fifteen? Still a child in Ed’s book. A child who had been sent to a short-lived, ill-prepared training center before being dumped into hell.

It was lucky that he had met Maes beforehand. Otherwise, there was no telling what the battlefront would have done to his psyche. And yet, the _cause_ of all that pointless bloodshed had the gall to pass Mustang off as just a war hero. Like the war was all Mustang had ever been and would ever be good for. Ed didn’t have to be a fan of Mustang to correct that error. He had to be human.

“Brother?”

Ed looked away from the train’s window to Al, who had been berating him for making himself a target of the Führer for the past few hours.

“Yeah, Al?”

“You weren’t listening, were you?”

“Look, I get why you’re concerned, but I can handle myself. Besides, the bastard deserved it.”

“I’m not saying he didn’t! I’m just worried. This is the Führer we’re talking about.”

“And?”

“Damn it, Ed. Can’t you just worry about yourself for ten seconds? Here you are, making sure that we get back to Risembool safely, when we aren’t even the ones in danger!” Winry shouted at Ed, finally tired of the brothers’ ongoing argument. “Who’s going to look after you on the way back? Who’s going to stop another chimera from attacking you? Who’s going to keep _you_ safe?”

Ed grimaced, guilt over causing them so much strife sinking in, but he didn’t waver.

“I’ll protect me. Just like I always have.”

“And what if you aren’t good enough?”

“I will be.”

“Use Mustang, too.”

Confusion flooded Ed. Hadn’t Al been the one leading the don’t-get-close-to-Mustang crusade recently?

“I don’t like him any more than you do, but he’s strong. He… he really likes you, and if nothing else, he’ll do his best to keep you safe.”

“Al, I don’t need a babysitter—”

“Then you keep him safe, too! Equivalent exchange.” Al leaned forward, making sure he had firm eye-contact with his elder brother. “Promise me, Brother. Promise me you won’t rush into this alone.”

“Al… Mustang’s only out for himself. It’s not equivalent exchange if he won’t keep his end of the bargain. If I just—”

“If you really thought that, you wouldn’t have defended him.”

That wasn’t true. Ed had spoken up because of the war and because Bradley was a douche.

“Yeah, you’ll stand up for friends and strangers alike, but not people you hate. Because when you hate someone, it’s because you think the person is bad. You’re good, but you aren’t nice. If you thought he was getting what was coming to him, you would have just walked away.

“More than that, you trusted he would keep Winry and me safe. You didn’t say ‘Run to Maes’ you said ‘Run back to Mustang’s.’ You may not like him as a political figure, but you know he’s good for his word, and you know he’ll do whatever it takes to keep the people closest to him safe. His unit. The Hughes family. Us.”

Al paused, clearly torn between saying what he wanted and stopping there.

“You’re scared. I get that. It’s not an excuse to be stupid, too.”

Ed leaned back, forcing his eyes away from Al to stare at the ceiling.

When had he started lying to himself?

He didn’t like a lot of the things Mustang did, but that was politics. That was where Mustang thrived and the path he had chosen. Hadn’t Ed just asked the other man not to downplay his choices for being different? Mustang said he would stop manipulating Ed as much as he could, and he had been true to that. He had been straight with Edward, and he had kept Al and Winry safe instead of going out to gain even more credit for himself. He had trusted that Ed knew what he was doing and followed unspoken orders.

Mustang had been the first name to pop into Ed's head, and he had trusted that the Colonel would protect his family. Ed didn’t generally like Mustang. On a superficial level, Ed trusted him as far as he could throw him. When things got right down to it, though? Ed trusted Mustang more than he was comfortable admitting.

Maybe not politically. Maybe not for the public. But if something actually, physically came to harm Ed, Mustang would do everything in his power to stop it.

If he were being honest with himself, the only reason Mustang was willing to toss him to the wolves in other situations was probably the knowledge that he would be fine on his own. If Ed needed help, Mustang would lend a hand. If not, he would let Ed have his pride – his _independence_ – and deal with the aftermath later. Maybe Mustang had been going a little far by calling them friends, but Ed couldn’t quite figure out what else they would be.

Partners, maybe? It was just ambiguous enough that Ed didn’t have to waste time defining things. Partners against injustice. Partners in keeping loved ones safe. Partners in taking down chimeras.

Ed didn’t really like Mustang, but Al was right about him being scared. Scared that he could grow to like him. Scared of being a pawn and scared of tasting victory only to have it taken away. Scared of the moments they shared where Ed was genuinely content.

When had hypocritical pansy become an accurate substitute for Edward Elric?

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I promise.”

Ed didn’t have to look back to his brother to see Al’s relief any more than he had to look to see Winry move to hold the younger man’s hand, silently assuring him that he was making the right choice.

Neither of them wanted to see Ed get hurt by Mustang, but it was a better alternative than death by Führer. Or chimera. Or literally any other enemy Ed had picked up along the way.

“Good. Then it’s onto the stuff that really matters. What’s up with you and that Greeling guy?”

Winry lightened the conversation with useless gossip, and Ed raised his brows as he turned his full attention back to his family.

“Nothing. Why?”

Winry stared uncomprehendingly at Ed for a moment before giggling, and Al joined her in that a few seconds later.

“What? What is it?”

But they only laughed harder, and Ed eventually gave up on figuring out the method to their madness.

**(***Intertwined***)**

_ALCHEMIST OF THE PEOPLE INVOLVED WITH HERO OF ISHVAL?_

Mustang was the one to show Ed the newspaper, and when the blonde scoffed, tossing it to the side without giving it another thought, Mustang handed him another.

_FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST CHOOSES A SIDE_

Ed didn’t pay that one any mind, either.

_FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST TO BE THE NEXT FÜHRER?_

_FLAME ALCHEMIST GAINS SUPPORT OF THE PEOPLE_

_ISHVAL WAR REVISITED: WAR CRIMES OR NECESSARY PROTECTION?_

_ROY MUSTANG: THE MAN BEHIND THE WAR HERO_

“There are a million different versions of what you said after the ball. Some of them pass you off as a delusional child. Some of them make you out to be a hero. Some of them say you’re just defending me while others draw you out as competition. A select few think that you genuinely just hate Führer King Bradley.”

“What? Someone actually got it right?”

“You’re the center of attention, Fullmetal. A lot of people are rallying in your favor, but there will be plenty who take offense at your views. You have to be more careful.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be happy?” Ed flipped a page in his book. “You were the dame of the ball.”

Mustang sat the rest of his formidable stack of newspapers on the kitchen table with a frustrated sigh.

“Just ten minutes. Care about what could happen to you for just _ten minutes_. While I’m thankful for what you said—”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“—it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve put us both – mainly you – in jeopardy. The Führer isn’t going to just sit back and take this. You have to be prepared for a counterattack, and I doubt it’ll be as nice as a few scathing words to the press.”

“Oh, no. Not the Führer. Whatever shall I do?”

“Fullmetal—”

“What? You said to care. This is me. Caring.”

“I was being serious, Fullmetal.”

“Yeah, me too. If the Führer wants to puff his chest and have a dick measuring contest, I’m for it. I won’t bare my neck just because he’s got an impressive title barking at his heels.”

Mustang’s hand slammed against the table, more irritated than Ed had ever seen him.

“You can take care of yourself. I get that. We _all_ get that. I’m not asking you to go under twenty-four hour surveillance. I’m just saying to stay out of the lime-light until this calms down.”

“I’m not talking to the press again, if that’s what you mean.”

“Your every move is being watched, and the second you step out of line, they’ll strike.”

Ed raised a brow, silently inquiring if that was supposed to concern him, and Mustang clarified.

“People are going to come after you.”

“Instead of sitting here and bitching at me, maybe you should help me keep a lookout.”

The silence that permeated the room was too heavy for Ed to read through, and he lifted his eyes to see Mustang watching him back. Waiting for the piece of the puzzle that he must have missed. Ed sighed and closed his book, using his thumb to keep his place.

“Look, I’m not going to back down from this chimera hunt, and I’m not going to back down against the Führer. Same goes for you. So, at least on those fronts, we may as well work together. Watch each other’s backs.” When Mustang did nothing more than continue his blank stare, Ed glared. “If you don’t want to—”

“Alphonse put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Ed’s glare harshened, and Mustang began re-stacking the newspapers. “I want to work with you. I do. But you can’t run around like a lone ranger and leave us to scramble in your wake.”

“Us?”

“I don’t do anything without my unit, and they don’t do anything without me. My protection is their protection.”

Ed stared at Mustang, surprised at how much they sounded like a family.

“By proxy, my trouble is their trouble, and you’re a lot of trouble. I want to help keep you safe, and I would honestly feel safer knowing you were watching out for me, but I need to know you’re going to work with me, not against me.”

“I’m listening.”

“Share your information. If you think you’ve got a lead or if you see someone suspicious, don’t charge in head first. Let me know and work with me on the best plan of action. If something happens, I want to be able to help you. Whether or not you can handle something on your own doesn’t matter. It’s about having back-up on the off-chance that you can’t. The less damage caused, the better.”

“I’ll keep you in the loop, but I won’t wait for your men to come sneak around in my shadow. I’ve been on too many missions where unnecessary lives were lost thanks to protocol keeping us from catching them when we had the chance. If help is there, I’ll accept it, but I won’t wait for it.”

“If help _is_ there though, you stick to the plan. I don’t need a loose-cannon putting the rest of my men in danger.”

“That’s only if you don’t go making plans I can’t be expected to follow. If I see someone’s in danger, I’m going in. If I _think_ someone’s in danger, I’m going in.”

“And I’ll make sure whomever’s with you is aware of that. But I can’t send my men into a situation blind. If you know something, you have to tell me. The more I know, the easier it is to gain the upper-hand.”

“It would be at the end of the day. When you get back and I feel like talking. I’m not going to report in like one of your lackeys.”

Mustang and Ed gauged each other for a solid few minutes; neither ready to believe working together would be so simple.

“But you will let me know. If it’s pertinent, you let me know right away. Otherwise, I can wait.”

“You do the same. If I’m telling you what I stumble across, you’ve got to be reciprocating. No hiding things to keep me where you want me or manipulating the information I receive.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

And though they had come to an agreement, the air was tenser than ever. There was something about Mustang that just got under Ed’s skin. He put Ed on the defensive and made him feel like he had to keep on his toes or be overtaken. Mustang’s manipulations were anger-inducing, but his drive to help and brilliance in the field were alluring.

He was someone worth following when it came right down to it, and that made it harder to find the line in the sand. How much could Ed trust Mustang before he became one of the man’s puppets? How close could he allow himself to get before being burned?

Because he would get burned. That, much like death and equivalent exchange, was inevitable.

**(***Intertwined***)**

A lot of confusing things happened when Ed returned to school. For one, Scar smiled at him. Not smirked. Not looked generally less apathetic. Actually smiled. That smile was followed by a nod, which Ed had confusedly returned. For another, Greeling sat next to him instead of Mustang. Martel didn’t question her leader; simply moved with him.

Ed would admit that he had spent a lot more time with Greeling at the ball than he had intended, but that didn’t make them friends.

“ _May I?” Greeling held out a hand for Ed to take, and Ed popped another tiny cake into his mouth._

“ _No.”_

“ _Not even one tiny dance?”_

“ _No.”_

“ _What if I told you I have information on your little chimera problem?”_

_Ed stopped stuffing his face long enough to actually take in Greeling’s proposal. If he was telling the truth, a dance was nothing._

“ _Like what?”_

_But Greeling only moved his hand a little closer to Ed, insisting that the dance would have to come first. Golden eyes rolled, and Ed ate one more miniature pastry before roughly accepting the offer. Greeling’s arrogant grin widened, and as Ed was being led onto the dance floor, he took the time to actually observe his impromptu dance partner._

_Greeling was out of his usual tight, black clothes and fluffy vest, instead wearing a nice black suit that had to cost at least six times what Ed had paid. And Edward’s suit hadn’t been cheap. It looked good on him though: emphasizing his broad chest, trim waist, and long legs. Greeling loved nice things, and nice things loved him back. The life of luxury wasn’t something he was attempting to fit into but a world in which he thrived. His usual round sunglasses were gone, leaving stormy grey eyes in plain view, and it did wonders for showing off his aristocratic facial structure._

_Greeling, if one ignored his personality, was an attractive man._

_And a spectacular dancer. He took the lead, which was fine since Ed didn’t know how, and danced in a way that would have been easy to follow even without all those lessons with Al._

_The music ended almost before Ed knew it, and he backed away._

“ _Now talk.”_

_But Greeling just grinned, mischief lighting his eyes, and held his hand out once more._

“ _You don’t call me greed for nothing.” He bounced his hand mid-air to draw attention to it while his smile turned playful. “C’mon. Just one more.”_

_If Ed were being honest, he wasn’t sure why he agreed to dance with Greeling a second time. He was pretty sure Greeling had been yanking his chain about having information. But it wasn’t like he had a good reason to turn the man down, either. Dancing with him wasn’t bad, and Al and Winry were going to be caught up in each other for the foreseeable future._

_So, that’s what he did. He danced with Greeling for one more song and though they didn’t talk, it was comfortable. When that dance ended, Ed didn’t pull away, simply tightened his grip on Greeling’s hand and started leading them to an unused corner of the room. Greeling didn’t protest, just grinned and allowed himself to be pulled along._

_When they finally reached the far-back table, Ed let go of Greeling and crossed his arms._

“ _There. Two dances. Now talk.”_

“ _You really think two rounds are enough to sate me?”_

_Greeling’s voice took on a distinctly sexual undertone, and Ed scoffed._

“ _The deal wasn’t to sate you. It was to dance.”_

_Greeling laughed and took a seat, lightly motioning for Ed to follow his lead. Once the eldest Elric was seated, he began._

“ _First off, you’re out of your league. The guys behind this aren’t military dogs; they’re alphas. They’re the kind of people you had nightmares about as a kid. In fact, with the kind of power they hold, you may as well be challenging the Führer himself. You hear me? I mean, I’ve heard stories of your recklessness, but even you would back down if pitted directly against the most powerful man in Amestris.”_

“ _Fuck the Führer.”_

_Greeling laughed at Ed’s brash response while Ed continued to hand him a blank stare._

“ _Oh, god. I needed that. But anyone can talk trash when nobody’s around. Going up against the guy is a different matter entirely. Not that I’m blaming you. Brad isn’t my favorite guy, either. I’m just saying it’s easier in theory than in practice.”_

“ _If all you’re going to do is warn me that I can’t handle it, you’re wasting my time.”_

“ _Ooh. Gutsy. My kind of guy.”_

_When Ed didn’t respond, Greeling leaned his chair back and placed his feet on the table, legs crossed at the ankles._

“ _Well, if you’re going to do it anyhow, know that there’s a hell of a lot more where the one you beat down came from. I’m not sure how many of ‘em have humans all twined up inside, but what they lack in smarts, they make up for in viciousness.”_

_Grey eyes gave Ed an unhurried once-over._

“ _Reports said the one you fought got you good, but you certainly don’t look hurt.”_

“ _How’d you get the reports?”_

“ _A lackey of my brother’s is a lackey of mine.”_

“ _Uh-huh. So, do you know where they’re kept?”_

“ _No, but I know the alchemy used to make them. And I know how to make sure you don’t get so torn up next-go-round.”_

“ _I thought I looked fine.”_

“ _Oh, you do,” The sexual undertone was back, “but you’d look good even with just one arm. Or an arm and a half.”_

_At that, Ed actually chuckled. Greeling perked up at the sound, his grin turning pleased and a little prideful._

“ _Yeah, so it got a little messed up. But that’s the perk of having a replaceable limb.”_

“ _And what about the non-replaceable parts?”_

“ _They manage.”_

“ _What if I said I could prevent any future injuries? That would help you protect your family, right?”_

“ _And how would you do that?”_

“ _Alchemy.”_

“ _If there were alchemy like that, I’d know.”_

_But the way Greeling grinned said otherwise, and Ed found himself frowning._

“ _What else about the chimeras?”_

“ _They aren’t just chimeras. They’re part of a bigger plan; something bigger than either you or me. Something bigger than Amestris.”_

“ _But you don’t know what.”_

“ _I didn’t think it was interesting before.”_

_Ed gave Greeling a skeptic look before accepting that the other man had always had an odd idea of what was interesting and what wasn’t._

“ _Is that all?”_

“ _All for now.”_

_Ed watched Greeling for a few minutes before turning his attention back to the dance floor. Maes was dancing with Gracia, Mustang with Elicia, and Al with Winry. Maybe it was that Ed actually liked this song or possibly just the atmosphere of the ball, but when Ed stood, he offered Greeling a hand._

“ _To sate you.”_

“ _Sate me? Why, that could take all night.”_

_Or maybe that was why Ed wanted to dance with him one more time. When Greeling wanted something, he went straight for it. No games. No manipulation._

“ _Just one.”_

_Greeling’s grin bet against that number, but Ed’s sense of judgment could only falter for so long._

“You need something?”

“Not really.”

Ed went back to staring out the window only to have Greeling draw his attention once more.

“I just never would have thought you were serious about facing Brad.”

The way Greeling said “Brad” showed that he found the nickname demeaning. Ed shrugged.

“He was asking for it.”

“Always is. Doesn’t mean I want to get caught in his crosshairs.”

“Yeah, well some of us aren’t cowards. He can come after me if he wants. I’d love an opportunity to kick the bastard’s teeth in.”

Greeling laughed.

“A coward, huh? Maybe he just hasn’t given me a reason to get in his way.”

“Then you’re either blind or stupid.”

“Are those the only options?”

“So far.”

“Then maybe you could help open my eyes.”

Ed sighed, well-past finished with Greeling’s games.

“I’m not trying to draw you to my side or ask for your help. I insulted the Führer because he was being an asshole and trying to act like the Ishval Civil War wasn’t political bullshit that led to the outright slaughter of millions of innocent people. If he wants to pay me back for that, he’s welcome to try. No matter what he says; no matter what he does; he was wrong. The war was wrong. His leadership is wrong. I don’t really care what happens to this already-corrupt-as-hell government, but I won’t let him or anyone else treat innocent people like they’re lucky to be the dirt he walks on. Not in front of me.”

Greeling observed Ed more seriously than before, his smile gone, but Ed’s attention had already turned back to the window. The next time he looked away, class had started.

Armstrong looked positively thrilled to see Ed sitting at his desk again, the sparkles surrounding him almost too bright to look at.

“Oh, my friends! I hope you had the most marvelous of weekends and are ready to dive back into the art of bonding with vigor!”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Though Greeling held a short conversation with Ed every day, it was Scar who made the first major impact.

“Is that him? Is it really?” A woman with dark skin and long, wavy brown hair smiled up at Scar before looking back to Ed, who was just surprised that anyone other than him remained on campus.

“It is.” Scar moved them both closer, gently pushing her wheelchair in a way that could only be described as loving. When she got close enough, Ed noted that her irises were red. She was an Ishvalan. When she finally reached the table, she leaned forward, stretching a hand out for Ed to shake.

“I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long. To thank you. But Namae here kept saying the time wasn’t right, and I’m sure you know how hard it is to sway him once he’s made up his mind.”

She sounded sweet, and though Ed had no idea what she was talking about, he nodded.

When his hand touched hers, her other hand came forward to cover the back of his hand as well. Golden eyes moved to Scar, whose real name was apparently Namae, and watched as he took a seat beside of the woman. As soon as he was settled, he lifted a hand to remove his glasses, setting them gently on the table and revealing equally red irises. As though it were nothing. Ed looked back to the woman, panic rising in his chest as he noticed the tears gathering in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I… Have we met somewhere?”

She laughed breathlessly, one hand releasing Ed’s to wipe away the tears, and nodded.

“Yeah. You saved me.”

“You saved us.”

Scar’s hand reached over to link with the woman’s, and they smiled at each other in a way only lovers could. As Scar turned back to Ed, a ghost of that smile remained.

“I was once a warrior monk of Ishval. I had three things to cherish: God, my brother, and his girlfriend, Elaine.” Scar lifted their intertwined hands to show that the mysterious woman was the girlfriend being referenced. “Then the Ishval Civil War came, and my brother was taken from me. I lost an arm, and Elaine was severely injured. My brother’s arm replaced my own, saving my life, but it only acted as a reminder of what I had lost.”

Scar pulled up the sleeve of his yellow jacket, revealing a large tattoo of a dangerous transmutation array. Ed stared for a good few minutes, realizing therein that coming into contact with that arm was far more dangerous than he had ever assumed, before looking back up to Scar’s face. Red eyes watched him closely before nodding, and the sleeve was released.

“As each day passed, I found myself succumbing to a darker and darker thirst for revenge. We were obviously Ishvalan, and prejudices ran deep in our part of the country. No one would help us. They sat back, watching us suffer while praising the beasts who did this to us. I couldn’t find work. I couldn’t get medicine. I thought this was God’s way of turning me into an agent of His divine punishment, and I swore that as soon as she died, I would go forth on a mission to destroy as many State Alchemists as I could.”

Ed couldn’t help but tense, and Scar’s miniscule smile became even gentler.

“And then you came along. No older than fourteen and filled with an unshakable sense of right and wrong. We waited for you to spit at us like the others had, but instead you became angry. Angry on our behalf. You threatened the landlord and paid the doctor such an outlandish amount that he couldn’t think of refusing.”

Elaine took over from there.

“When we told you that we had no means to repay you, you waved it off saying, ‘It’s just money, and it looked like you were gonna die if I didn’t do it. I don’t know about you, but I think money’s a pretty stupid thing to die over.’ And then you left. Like it really was nothing. If you hadn’t been there, I would be dead.”

“And I would have strayed so far from the path of the righteous that I may as well have been.”

Ed watched them with nothing short of astonishment. He remembered paying someone’s medical bills years back, but it had been on a whim. He had thought the townspeople were just greedy, not that they had been specifically discriminated against. And not once had he thought that the sickly, life-weathered man might be Scar.

“So that’s what you meant when you said ‘Not yet.’ I thought you were talking about being right for me.”

Elaine laughed again, almost overly happy, and Scar shook his head.

“It wasn’t the right time. It’s also why I thought you should stray from the Colonel. I considered him a face of the war, the military, and everything we had fought against. I suppose he’s no more the reason for the war than I am though; simply an unfortunate man on an opposing side.”

“I think that’s what most people were.”

“I apologize for interrupting!” Elaine had a sudden, panic-laden guilt in her voice that said she hadn’t before thought about the possible importance of his work. “I was just so excited to finally see the man who had pulled us from the darkness that—”

“Hey now! I didn’t do anything like that. I was just helping some people who needed it. Honestly, by the time I got to the next town, it had already slipped my mind. I’m no savior.”

“Edward,” Ed hesitated as Scar called him by his name for the first time, “the only people who can forget about a heroic deed are those who experience them often.”

And for the very first time, Ed accepted that “Alchemist of the People” might actually be accurate.

He shut his book as they finally gained his undivided attention.

“So, what happened after I left?”


	13. Chapter Thirteen

When Namae’s eyes met Ed’s and they nodded to one another – when Namae sat nonchalantly in front of the blonde, as though he’d been there all semester – the classroom hierarchy was shaken. When Greeling’s brows rose and his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, his interest rising, the usual tension of having multiple alphas in a small space diminished. When Mustang walked into the room, noted the new arrangement, and scoffed, it was Lust who investigated.

“My, my. Your boy’s becoming quite popular.”

Mustang turned to her and said something or another, but by that point, Ed had stopped paying attention. Ed couldn’t explain why so many people were suddenly drawn to him, and in all honesty he didn’t particularly care to try. People did crazy, stupid things for no reason all the time.

After class, Namae gave him a look that questioned whether or not he wanted to be walked to his next class, and Ed waved him on, having no intentions of going to his next class anyhow. Instead, he caught up with Mustang.

Obsidian eyes trained on gold, canvassing him to collect as much information as possible before the conversation even started.

“Fullmetal?”

“Just making sure you’re still up for dinner tonight.”

Mustang smirked at the wording, and Ed scowled as he tried to hide his embarrassment at the implication. It had been bad enough bringing up the meal invite the first time. Reaffirming his horribly date-like invitation was just humiliating.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” There was a pause that Ed spent contemplating the best way to leave, and Mustang broke it with, “You do know where his house is, right?”

“No. I was actually planning on wandering the streets, knocking on the door of every house that halfway looked like Namae might live there.”

Ed’s sneer was outdone by Mustang’s condescending, ‘how cute’ smile.

“I figured as much. Well, how about I show you a thing or two about being a responsible adult and ask for his address?”

“No!”

Mustang’s brows rose, eyes focused on Ed’s expression with intensive curiosity. Ed’s scowl softened slightly and he looked off to the side to avoid what was sure to be a judging expression.

“He doesn’t _exactly_ …” Ed licked his lips as he searched for the right words, “know you’re coming.”

Just as Ed had expected, he didn’t have to look to feel the judgment. If he had looked, he would have also seen Mustang smile humorously, once again stumped by the blonde’s predictable unpredictability.

“So he didn’t invite me?”

“No.”

“So you invited me.”

“…Yeah.”

“So it is a date.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mustang. I didn’t invite you because I wanted to. I did it because—” Ed hesitated. If he fessed up now, Mustang would spend the rest of the day scheming on how to best handle the situation. “Actually, I promised Al I’d call him yesterday. He’s probably worrying a hole in the floor right now. I should get to that.”

Ed proceeded to walk towards the library as quickly as possible, and he thanked whichever lucky star hadn’t abandoned him that Mustang wasn’t feeling persistent.

Besides, it wasn’t a total lie. Al really had been nagging him to call more, and the librarian didn’t mind him using the phone. The librarian didn’t mind much of anything he did, really.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Al. How’s it going?”

“Brother! I’m well. I’m just finishing up some last-minute research before class. What’s going on?”

“What? You’re always pestering me to call and now that I do, I need a reason?”

“Brother.”

“Come on, Al. I just wanted to check in on my little brother and make sure—”

“Are you using me as an excuse to get away from Mustang?”

Ed raised his hand to scratch the back of his head while offering up an embarrassed chuckle.

“That obvious, huh?”

“You have a lot of strong suits, Brother, but lying isn’t one of them.” There was a pause where Ed assumed Al was correlating something in his notes with what he was reading. “That’s fine though. I actually wanted to ask you what you know about botanic alchemy.”

“Botanic alchemy? That’s a pretty broad field.”

“Right. Sorry. What do you know about alchemic gene splicing? And what about the controversy between bringing plants to life and how it tempts people towards… you know.”

“Human transmutation.”

“Right.”

“The gene splicing depends entirely on outer-rim runes and is hardly precise. It’s currently difficult – according to leading theorists, near-impossible – to determine which traits will be dominant and prominent in the resulting plant. I think it’s just a matter of trial-and-error until you can really figure how each rune is reacting with each trait and why. The corresponding results will vary some by species, yeah, but that can be tracked and accounted for.

“Not that I’m saying you should do it. Botany’s one of the only fields that manages to make alchemy boring. As for it being a gateway to human transmutation, that’s just paranoid geezers blowing smoke out their asses. The problem with human transmutation is the soul, not the life, and last time I checked plants don’t have a soul.”

“That’s what I was thinking. It’s not something I would want to spend years on, but the idea of being able to more easily populate a desolate area with partially-grown vegetation is certainly tempting.”

“No, they would have to transform the land and its resources before any alchemically-grown shrubbery could survive, and it would take a lot more than well-drawn circles to produce the funding for that.”

“I guess so. It just seems unfair to let people starve over something as dumb as money, you know?”

“I hear you, Al. But there’s nothing we can do about it. Not yet, anyhow. Who knows? Maybe once the military lets go of my leash, I can travel around and just help some towns get off the ground.”

“I thought you said botany made alchemy boring.”

“Yeah, but I’m getting old, Al, and everyone knows old people like to garden.”

Al laughed, and a smile overtook Ed’s face.

“So, how are things going with Winry?”

“I uh, well…” Al’s voice became a whisper, “I’ll tell you about it later.”

“It?”

Ed could practically hear Al blush.

“Look at the time! I’ve got to get to class. Sorry Brother. I’ll call later!”

His sentence was punctuated with a dial tone, and Ed chuckled at his younger brother’s attempt at discretion.

After hanging up the phone, Ed looked around the library for another way to kill time. After a full fifteen seconds of contemplation, he headed to the gym. A good workout was exactly what the doctor ordered.

If someone saw Ed taking out his frustrations by running or punching or hitting, they would probably blame his spat with the Führer, Mustang, or general anger issues. If someone were to ask him about his pent-up irritations, he would probably list one of those three things.

In actuality, he was still torn up over having taken such a beating against the chimera. Every night before bed, he imagined what would have happened had he been only slightly weaker or slower. He thought about what to do next time, when two escaped instead of one. He ran over all of the terrible possibilities in his head and let it sink in that there were plenty of loved ones still in Central whose deaths he could never live down.

If he didn’t train even harder and get exponentially stronger, what was he worth? A few minutes of extra time to flee while he was turned into a chew-toy, that’s what.

“Fullmetal?”

Ed looked over to Mustang, brows furrowing as he took in the slicked-back hair and pressed petty coat. He had probably even ironed his scarf.

“Why are you so dressed up?”

“Our date, of course.”

“Our…” Golden brows furrowed even further before lifting to make a broken arch. “Shit. Namae’s house.” Ed pushed sweaty bangs out of his face and grabbed his red coat. “What time is it? Are we late?”

“Am I ever late?”

“Literally every instance involving paperwork.”

“Is there paperwork at his house?”

“No.”

“Then we must not be late.”

Ed frowned, but his heartbeat slowed to a reasonable pace. Deciding Mustang wasn’t worth the effort, he walked around his superior officer towards the exit, pausing only to point a warning finger and say, “Not a date.”

Mustang chuckled without disputing the claim and followed Ed, seeming to walk even slower when Ed reached the passenger-side door. The ride was silent aside from directions, and Ed didn’t comment when Mustang straightened his spine and squared his shoulders.

Mustang shot Ed an arrogant grin, to which Ed calmly knocked on the door. Namae opened the door almost immediately, his welcoming smile freezing as he caught sight of Mustang much the same way that Mustang’s polite, confidant smile faltered at seeing Namae’s red rises.

Namae’s gaze moved to Ed.

“I was unaware you were bringing company.”

“Sorry about that. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Namae looked back to Mustang and then again to Ed before nodding and moving aside.

“Of course not. Welcome to our home.”

“Is that him? Namae, I haven’t quite finished the pie yet. Would you mind—” Elaine hesitated as she saw Mustang entering the room, her reaction entirely different from either of the men as she rolled herself quickly back into the kitchen saying, “I told you making extra food is never a bad idea. Namae, would you please set another plate while I put the pie in the oven?”

“Of course.” Namae turned from the doorway to motion towards the couch. “Make yourselves at home. Dinner will be ready shortly.”

“Thank you very much.”

Mustang spoke using his political voice, and Namae nodded before disappearing into the kitchen.

While Ed walked over to the couch, Mustang continued to stare at the kitchen door. Despite his schooled, polite expression, Ed could see the way Mustang tensed apprehensively. He clearly thought this was going to be some sort of stoning; that Ed had wanted revenge for something and knew the best way to get it was to exploit his guilt-ridden past.

He even seemed close to surprised when Elaine fetched them for the meal with a kind smile and warm voice. Once they were seated, Elaine nonchalantly broke the broaching-awkward silence by holding out a hand.

“Hello. I’m Elaine.”

Mustang’s hand moved towards hers almost daintily. As though he was afraid she would break on contact.

“Roy.”

“I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. You see, we were only expecting Edward. Not that you’re unwelcome. A friend of Edward’s is a friend of ours.”

“Think nothing of it. I’m grateful to be welcomed into your lovely home, especially without prior notice.” Even when using his most pleasant demeanor, his expectations and correlating hesitations were clear. At least to Ed. “You’re very kind.”

“Oh my. You’re quite the charmer.” Elaine laughed, and Mustang relaxed a fraction to return her smile. “Now, let’s save the chatter and dig in. Have as much as you like.”

Ed, unlike Mustang, took her words to heart and piled his plate as high as he could.

“You’re a great cook!”

“Thank you! Though I have to admit that I was only in charge of the soup and pie. Namae fixed everything else.”

“Really? I never would have pegged you as a chef.”

Ed spoke with his mouth full, and Namae smiled lightly.

“Most people don’t.”

“So, Edward. Will you tell us more about yourself? We went on and on last time, and you hardly said a word.”

Elaine looked at Ed with stars in her eyes, and Ed slowly finished chewing before scratching the back of his head.

“I guess so. What would you like to know?”

“Anything! Everything. How did you become a State Alchemist?”

“How? Well, I took the exam, I guess.” When that explanation clearly didn’t suffice, he continued, “I studied day and night at the house of a…” Ed paused, searching for the right words while trying to ignore Mustang’s heavy gaze. “a renowned alchemist and his daughter. I aced the written portion of the exam before going onto the physical portion where your run-of-the-mill tough guys were over-exerting themselves in an attempt to be impressive.

“Unfortunately, one guy made a blimp while another guy made a statue and statue-guy used up so much energy to do it that he couldn’t move out of the way when the blimp crashed into the statue and knocked it over. So, everybody stands around and panics while this guy is about to be crushed and all I remember thinking is how dumb adults are before running over and transmuting the blimp and statue into a billion flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“They were the most harmless thing I could think of. That, and Nina was always talking to me about magic flowers.”

“Nina?”

“The daughter of the alchemist I was staying with. She was the sweetest kid you’d ever meet. I honestly probably should have studied more for the exam than I did, but I could never turn her down when she asked to play.”

Ed smiled nostalgically, completely missing the look exchanged by Namae and Elaine. Quietly, Namae questioned, “Was?” and Edward’s smile faded.

“Yeah. She-uh, she passed away.” Ed looked them in the eyes, hoping he could let it pass like that and knowing they deserved more honesty and Nina deserved a real memory. “Her father actually fused her with her dog in an attempt to create a human chimera. She was killed shortly afterwards.”

Elaine dropped her fork to raise a horrified hand to her mouth, Namae’s lips tightened into a thin line, and Mustang tensed, no doubt remembering having been called out that night.

“I didn’t protect her like I should have, but I’m thankful for the time that I got to spend with her. She reminded me of what it was like before deciding to become an alchemist of the State.”

Ed’s grin rushed back at full force as he deemed this a night for Nina and began telling of their many adventures together. And, honestly, it felt good. There were so many years where he had remembered her only for his shortcomings, and it was nice to think about her as a person instead of a victim.

“She sounds delightful. It seems like you all had a lot of fun together.”

“Oh, yeah. She had this habit of drawing on any paper she came across, and I more often than not found crayon-marks all over my notes.”

Ed laughed to himself, almost able to see the crudely drawn pictures in front of him.

“Did you keep any of them?”

Mustang, for the first time since arriving, spoke up without sounding stiff, and Ed’s smile barely dimmed.

“Sort of. I sent one to Al to keep – the one she drew for me to wish me luck on my exam – and I doubt he threw it away, but I haven’t seen it in years.”

“If you can get him to send it to you, we can frame it and hang it in the library.”

Ed wasn’t sure what he had been expecting from Mustang, but that wasn’t it. Ed didn’t respond, if only for a lack of knowing how, and Namae saved him by asking how the campaign was going.

“It’s going well.” That was Mustang’s political voice: the one that he rehearsed so much that it didn’t know how to waver. “I’m still far from being as well-known and thereby as supported as the Führer, but if we keep a steady presence in and out of the field, I believe we’ll only get stronger.”

An unsure silence settled between Namae and Mustang.

“How did you and Elaine meet?”

“Childhood friends.”

Ed thought that was a pretty vague way to say ‘she was my brother’s girlfriend before he died and then almost died herself’ but it wasn’t technically a lie. The tenseness re-settled itself between them, as it had nearly every time Mustang made eye contact with Namae or Elaine, and the Colonel focused his attention on the more easily approachable host.

“What’s your Core type?”

“Oh, I don’t have a Core.” Both Ed and Mustang’s expressions flipped to the surprised channel, and Elaine laughed playfully. “I always forget the emphasis your culture places on Core holders being with other Core holders. You don’t _have_ to bond, you know.” Her eyes met Ed’s almost knowingly. “If you really love someone, you stay together.”

And quite suddenly, Ed felt like an idiot. There he was fretting over being alone forever because finding another Fire Core was improbable-bordering-impossible, when another, far better option was right in front of him. He didn’t have to bond. Hell, he didn’t even have to limit himself to Activation Core holders.

“And you have an Activation Fire Core, yes?”

Elaine’s question was innocent, but it let them know that she kept up with current events at least enough to know who Mustang was, and ebony brows furrowed.

“Yes, I…” For the first time, Mustang looked at Namae and Elaine with the same determination Ed was used to avoiding. “Why did you let me into your home?”

Elaine smiled, mouth opening to say something that was sure to relate to Ed, when Mustang kept going.

“I’m not looking for an excuse about Fullmetal having good judgment. I _massacred_ your people.” Mustang gave the barest grimace, as though the words themselves left a bad taste in his mouth. “I was a soldier in the Ishval Civil War and I didn’t do anyone any favors. You shouldn’t be feeding me. You should be demanding my crucifixion.”

To Mustang’s credit, his voice didn’t waver when he spoke. Mustang looked straight ahead, ignoring Ed’s existence entirely, and waited for them to confirm what he clearly thought of himself.

“You look like you’ve punished yourself more than we ever could.” Surprisingly, the reassurance came from Namae. “When Edward brought you along, knowing who we are and who you are, I’ll admit my shock and discomfort. In spite of your previous actions, however, you’ve shown us no animosity. In contrast to every other time we met, you could even be considered meek. These are not signs of someone who enjoys killing.”

Despite Namae’s encouragement, Mustang only allowed more frustration and confusion to slip through his mask. Elaine put a hand over Namae’s and took over.

“What Namae means to say is that the Ishval Civil War has caused enough suffering. I’m sure your role in the war was something that’s just as bad to experience as its consequences were.”

Elaine squeezed Namae’s hand, looking to him for confirmation before gently turning her attention to Mustang.

“We forgive you.”

Mustang stared at them with pure disbelief, unable to comprehend the gravity of what they were saying, until the news became too much and he lowered his eyes into the heels of his hands, allowing his gloves to catch anything that may fall.

Out of Mustang’s sight, Ed smiled at Namae and Elaine – at the way their eyes shimmered – and allowed himself the knowledge that bringing the Colonel with him had been a good decision. This meet-up had been a long time coming for all three of them, and with the truth of their pasts and emotions out in the open, the only thing left to do was heal.

They deserved at least that much.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Maes Hughes was a family man. Amongst all the secrets he hid for work, his pride as a husband and father boldly stood out.

“Daddy! Daddy, are we still going to the park tomorrow?”

Love filled up and overflowed from Maes’ heart. He had joined the military to help people, but his dream had always been to raise a family. To have a daughter so sweet and perfect as his adorable Elicia was more than he had ever hoped for.

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world! We’ll feed the ducks and I’ll teach to how to do a summersault and you can wear that pretty new outfit your mother bought you. You’ll look so cute! I just know it!”

“Ooh! Ducks! I love ducks!” Elicia’s small hands clapped together as she giggled happily, completely forgetting about the meal in front of her. “Can I have a duck, Daddy? Can I can I _please_?”

Maes glanced at Gracia with a tender smile which she happily returned.

“Sorry, sugar, but ducks don’t belong in houses.”

“But—but I would love it and we have lots of food and it can share my bed and I’ll give it half the bathtub and—”

“Elicia, sweetie. I’m sure you’d take awfully good care of a duck, but they don’t like living inside. That’s why we have to go to the park to show we love them.”

Gracia spoke with such a beautiful voice that Maes had to remind himself that she wasn’t an angel. Elicia, however, had other feelings on the matter as her face twisted into an unhappy scowl.

“No! I want a duck!”

“Elicia, what have I said about using that tone?”

Elicia’s tiny fists banged against the table as she made an unpleasant noise with the back of her throat.

“But Daddy! You said you loved me!”

Maes felt a pang in his heart, but he had discovered years ago that children were quick to catch onto manipulation techniques, and love was the easiest way to manipulate Maes. Luckily, he also knew that they were only words to her; nothing serious or lasting.

“I do love you, sweetums, and so does your mother. You’re our little princess.”

“And as a princess, you need to be aware of how your actions affect others, ducks included. If taking a duck home would make the duck unhappy, should you do it?”

Elicia’s mouth quivered in an adorably sad line as she uncurled her fists and stared at the table.

“...No.”

“Because we don’t want the duck to be sad, do we?”

“No.”

“That’s my good girl. How about we bring extra oats and seeds for the ducks tomorrow? Does that sound nice?”

And just like that, the smile leapt back onto Elicia’s lips.

“Yay!”

“Great! Now, finish your dinner so we can eat some of that delicious cake your mother made.”

Maes winked at Elicia as though the dessert was a secret, and the little girl giggled conspiratorially.

A forkful of carrots only made it halfway to her mouth before the sound of breaking glass interrupted their evening. Maes’ and Gracia’s eyes met, and when Elicia asked, “Daddy, what’s that?” the smile he put on for her was fake.

“Probably just a stray cat. What do you think about skipping the rest of dinner and heading straight for dessert? I’ve got some special candy upstairs.”

“Candy! Candy!” Elicia’s arms rose above her head in joy, and Maes picked her up and grasped Gracia’s hand. The trip up the stairs was quick, and when Maes reached into his bedside table for a handful of candy, he snuck a pistol out with it.

“Now, why don’t you and Mommy go into your room, and if I can’t catch that silly kitty in a few minutes, you get to spend the night with Uncle Roy?”

“Uncle Roy! Uncle Roy!”

“Shh. You have to be a good girl if you want to see Uncle Roy tonight, okay? Make sure to listen everything your mommy says.”

“Okay Daddy.”

“There’s my good girl. I love you so much.” Maes gave his daughter a tight hug before straightening up to kiss his wife. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“I love you Daddy!”

Maes smiled and moved away, more a family man now than ever as he made his way carefully down the steps. He stepped into the kitchen with his back to the wall, cautiously scoping the perimeter as he went. Making sure to keep one eye on the way upstairs at all times, Maes crept into the living room. The glass from the broken window decorated the floor, and Maes’ trigger finger tensed.

“Maes?”

“Gracia?” Maes’ hands fell to his sides as he rushed over to his wife. “Gracia, what are you doing down here? Where’s Elicia?”

Panic seeped into Maes’ voice, and Gracia gently took the gun from Maes’ too-ready hands.

“Probably getting torn apart by chimeras.” Gracia’s voice was still angelically sweet, but it was cold enough to chill Maes’ blood. “Or maybe she’s already dead. I can’t imagine it would take long to devour such a tiny thing.”

Maes pulled away, all too aware that this thing wasn’t his wife, and reached for his gun too late. She shoved him backwards and held up his gun, more than ready to shoot him at point blank.

“Gracia and Elicia are long-gone by now. You’ll never get to them.”

“We’ll see about that.” Fake Gracia pulled back the hammer of Maes’ pistol, “At least, _I_ will.”

Maes watched whatever had taken Gracia’s form, trying to think of this like Elicia’s acting out. It only looked like Gracia because that was what would hurt him most, not because it had anything to do with her.

As she smiled the smile he had been loving for the past decade and a half, Maes took his final moment to pray for his family’s safety.

The gun fired and Maes fell to the floor, his shoulder exploding in unexpected pain. He looked up, unable to believe anyone was lucky enough to survive being shot at point-blank range, and saw a man standing between him and Fake Gracia. She had backed up a few feet and was holding her wrist, gun forgotten on the ground.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Sorry, Bro. This is my territory now.”

Maes’ eyes widened as he recognized Gerard Homunculi’s voice. Fake Gracia’s shock lasted for far less time, her bleeding arm turning black and extending into sharp-looking, tentacle-like appendages. Gerard tilted his head, appearing entirely unconcerned with the turn of events, and when the appendages came at him he simply grabbed them and flung the Gracia figure across the room. A horrible snapping sound accompanied the crashing noise Fake Garcia made as she hit the wall, but more spikes were flying towards them before the debris could hit the ground.

Gerard, apparently, was prepared for this as he bolted forward, twisting through the black lines with an unnerving grin on his face.

“C’mon now. You can’t really think you’ve got what it takes to beat me.”

The pointed ends of the tentacles came too close to Maes for comfort before turning to hit Gerard from the back.

“Fuck you! You think you’re so fucking great!” The spikes made contact with Gerard’s back but only managed to pierce his clothing. “You think you can do whatever you want!”

Fake Gracia’s voice deepened in the middle of ‘whatever’ and the figure that stood was another of the Homunculi siblings: Envy. He came at Gerard swiftly, and Maes took that moment to escape from the living room, all the while attempting to slow the blood flow from his shoulder.

As he raced up the steps, he heard, “Why are you helping him? What could possibly be important enough to pit yourself against Bradley?”

The rest was lost to him both because of the overwhelming noise of battle and the devastating sense of loss that came with reaching Elicia’s room and finding no one there.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

At the beginning of dinner, Mustang and Namae found a mutual hatred for war. By dessert, they found a mutual love for classical music and explosive alchemy. Come the end of dessert, they were so deep in conversation about fire alchemy and its many positive, non-destructive uses that answering a knock on the door was left to Ed. Well, technically it was left to Elaine, but Ed didn’t see a reason to force her to roll out from behind the table.

“Havoc?”

The look on Havoc’s face at seeing Ed was a mix of relief and pity – a regret-filled apology that made Ed’s heart drop into his stomach.

“Ed. Is the Colonel with you?”

Not boss man; the Colonel.

Ed refused to look away from Havoc as he turned his head and shouted, “Mustang!”

Both Mustang and Namae were in the entranceway within seconds. The pity intensified, and Mustang must have seen it, too because he immediately turned around and grabbed his coat from the kitchen.

“Thank you for the lovely evening. I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow.” And Namae could clearly read subtext better than most as he nodded, understanding that something was very, very wrong. By the time Elaine rolled into the room, they were leaving.

“Sorry about this. We’ll finish up another time.”

Ed closed the door before either of them had a chance to answer.

“It’s the Hughes family.”

Ed hated himself the entire way to the Hughes’ house. He hated himself for having a nice night out while the Hughes were attacked. He hated that Maes came seconds from dying and that Gracia and Elicia—

Ed closed his eyes and tilted his head upwards, fists clenched in his lap. When he opened his eyes, they would be at the Hughes’ house, and his family would still be safe. They had to be safe. There wasn’t another option.

That was what Ed kept repeating to himself, but he knew it wasn’t the truth. Maes had called Mustang’s house, and when he couldn’t be reached, the office was the next step. Hawkeye had picked up and immediately sent Havoc out to find Mustang. As far as Havoc knew, Gracia and Elicia were still missing.

Oh, and Gerard fucking Homunculi had stepped in at some point to fight off his apparently shape-shifting beast of a brother, Envy.

Ed took as deep a breath as he could, but with all the anger and fear pooling in his chest it felt more like drowning.

“We’re here.”

Ed was out of the car almost before it stopped moving. Maes was standing out front with Greeling, who seemed as tall, imposing, and bored as ever. Gracia and Elicia were nowhere to be seen.

“Maes!”

Both Maes and Greeling looked up from their conversation – if it could be called that – and focused in on Ed. While Maes’ attention fled to Mustang within seconds, Greeling’s remained fixated.

“Maes, where are Gracia and Elicia?”

“ _Daddy!”_ Everyone’s attention but Greeling’s swung around to see Gracia and Elicia running towards Maes with Martel, Roa, and Dolcetto following at a much more casual pace.

Maes rushed past Ed to scoop up his daughter and hug his wife tightly to him. Ed couldn’t hear what was being said, but he would bet they were words of gratitude and love. Ed’s stomach started to resettle itself as relief flooded his system, but he couldn’t shake the terror of what could have been.

“Didn’t think I’d let them become chimera chow, did you?”

Greeling sounded smug, and before Ed could stop himself he had finished crossing the yard and punched the bastard across the face. Greeling’s head moved to the side from the force but appeared otherwise unharmed. Ed immediately curled his fists in Greeling’s stupid jacket-vest and yanked him down to eye-level.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”

The shit-eating grin snuck its way back onto Greeling’s lips, and Ed tightened his grip threateningly.

“There’s no way in hell you just happened to be in the neighborhood when this shit went down. How did you know to come here?”

Greeling leaned even closer to Ed’s face. “Lucky guess?”

And Ed pulled him again, their faces close enough to see the charcoal flecks normally lost in the storm of Gerard’s eyes.

“If you think I won’t kick your ass from here to Ishval, you’re dead fucking wrong.”

Greeling tilted his head, appearing to be studying Ed; like looking closely enough would give him all the answers. Eventually, he said, “A lackey of my brother’s is a lackey of mine.”

“Führer Bradley? He’s behind this?”

As much as anger was Ed’s primary reaction, guilt was what overwhelmed him. This was what Mustang had warned him about. _This_ was the Führer’s retaliation.

“You knew? You _knew_ and didn’t say anything?”

The smile on Greeling’s face slipped into a displeased frown.

“Well, I don’t generally make a habit of getting in Brad’s way, _remember_?”

“Then why show up here?”

“Maybe I found my reason.” And for the first time, Greeling’s expression was neither arrogant nor bored. Ed stared down Greeling for a few more moments before letting go of his jacket, shoving him backwards in the process. There was something about Greeling’s stare that unsettled Ed – something intense that he didn’t quite understand.

“Where’s Envy?”

Mustang stepped into the conversation as soon as there was room. Greeling looked to him with far less interest.

“You mean what’s left of him?”

“You killed him?”

“Call it an unavoidable fate. If there’s one thing Brad likes less than failure, it’s public failure.”

Ed didn’t really understand that part as the Führer could have publicly blamed everything on his brother and gotten off squeaky clean. But everyone else seemed to understand, so he assumed it had something to do with political bullshit. Mustang gave them both a very serious look before nodding to Maes and making his way inside the somewhat ruined house. Ed checked to make sure Maes, Gracia, and Elicia were still safe before pushing past Greeling to follow Mustang.

The first thing Ed noticed was that Envy’s eyes were wide open. They stared at the ceiling and caused Ed to pay attention to slightly parted lips. As though Envy still wanted to say something. As though his crushed chest could still hold enough air to allow such a thing.

No, Ed had never liked Envy. That didn’t change his two main thoughts circling around the fact that someone he saw every day was now dead and that an older brother was the one who killed him. Ed might be able to understand if it was the conscienceless Führer, but Greeling was the one who did it. Greeling – mostly a douche but also an okay guy – had killed his little brother.

Ed couldn’t imagine as much as laying a hand on Al.

He left the house without sparing Mustang a glance.

“You said you wouldn’t let them become chimera food. What did you mean?”

“Exactly what I said—”

“Where’s the chimera now?”

Greeling’s eyebrows rose as he absentmindedly played with the fur of his vest.

“How should I know?”

“It’s behind the house. It was set up to attack the girlies when they tried to sneak out, but Gerard was a step ahead and the beast bit off more than it could chew.”

Dolcetto rattled off the facts like rehashing the details of an old story. Ed went to the backyard, making sure to keep his eyes away from the Hughes family in case his path strayed to them instead.

He was the reason they were in this mess. He couldn’t face them without a plan to fix it. Or at least the beginnings of a plan.

The chimera’s eyes were open, just like Envy’s had been. They looked like Envy’s eyes, too, aside from the color. This thing had human in it.

Ed hated that he felt more numb than sad. Unlike seeing Nina splattered across a wall, seeing whoever this was with his or her torso separated from the rest of the body just made him feel cold.

He moved forward to check out the teeth – two rows; probably a shark or something – and then the pointed ears. It didn’t have claws, but its paws were large and heavy enough to do damage on their own. It had course fur that felt oily, and Ed wondered if this thing’s original purpose was to stalk the waters.

He took note of the lack of downward slope between the chimera’s eyes and nose as he ran his hand over the back of its neck. It had more vertebrae than necessary, and Ed assumed it was done in an attempt to make up for the neckless animals’ physical composition.

Ed looked at the eyes again before making his way to the front yard. Those eyes had belonged to someone once. If not for Greeling and his goons, any or all of the Hughes family could have ended up the same way.

“Ed!” Elicia ran over to Edward when he re-entered the front yard, tears in her eyes as she gripped his cloak. “Ed, I was so scared!”

Ed felt her body against his and wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her head to his chest as he rested his chin on top of her head. She cried into his shirt and his heart broke as the tears soaked through. When she was finally ready to pull away he held her tighter, keeping her to him for a full minute longer. When he could control his own tears, he placed his hands on her biceps and put enough distance between them to look her in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, Elicia. I should have been there, and I wasn’t. It won’t happen again.”

“Edwa—”

“It _won’t_. Do you hear me, Elicia? I’m going to keep you safe.”

Elicia looked somewhat frightened by the seriousness of their conversation, but she nodded.

Ed stood, picking her up in the process, and walked over to Maes and Gracia. He wanted to tell them he was sorry he let this happen. He wanted to say that he shouldn’t have been slacking off and fooling around while they were in trouble. He wanted to because he knew if he did, they would reassure him that it wasn’t his fault and that everything was okay. They would remove the blame from his shoulders, and they would remind him that he was a part of the family, not a bodyguard.

That was exactly why he couldn’t say it. Not until this was sorted out and not until they were really, truly safe.

“Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Ed. We made it out a lot better than our house.”

Maes immediately started to joke with him when Gracia stepped in.

“Edward, I know that look. You can’t take this personally. None of this is your fault. And even if it were – _which it isn’t_ – we’re all safe, and that’s what matters.”

“I know; I know. Can you tell me what happened?”

“We were eating dinner when we heard the window breaking in the other room. I sent Elicia and Gracia upstairs, and if they heard anything or I didn’t join them within five minutes, they were to go out the window and get to Roy’s. I saw what I thought was Gracia, so I lowered my gun, and by the time I figured out it wasn’t her, she had disarmed me. Or, he did. Gerard crashed in before I could be shot, and from there it was Gerard and Envy who were fighting. I left them to go search for Gracia and Elicia. By the time I came back down, Envy was as you see him now.”

Maes’ intense gaze traveled over to Greeling before moving back to Ed, and the blonde assumed there was more to the story that Maes didn’t want third parties overhearing.

“As soon as we heard the shot go off downstairs, I got Elicia out of the house. Unfortunately, that thing you saw in the backyard was waiting for us. I tried to get Elicia back in the house, but it was too late. Fortunately, Mr. Dolcetto saved us. He tackled the thing with enough force to knock it away from us. To be honest, from there I stopped watching. But the sounds…”

Elicia pushed her head against Ed’s chest at her mother’s description.

“The sounds were awful. When they finally stopped, these three young people escorted us elsewhere. They said they would take us back when it was safe.”

“Gerard said to give him an hour.”

Roa nonchalantly filled in a blank, and Edward glared at him.

“You mean to tell me that you finished off a chimera and then just left? Maes could have been in trouble.”

“Listen, Eddie, Gerard was in there. He—”

“What if Gerard were in trouble?”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy would know that tone of voice anywhere. It was Fullmetal’s righteous, how-dare-you voice that he used every time something went against what he considered to be an integral part of morality.

“What if your precious boss had been in trouble?”

“Dealing with Envy? He wouldn’t lose if—”

“It’s one thing if you weren’t a fighter or if there were still danger for you to run from. I agree that one or maybe even two of you should have stayed with Gracia and Elicia just in case, but all three? All three of you being fighters, being alchemists, knowing your friend could be in danger and walking away?”

Roa stepped forward, teeth bared, and Fullmetal’s grip on Elicia visibly tightened.

“If he were actually in danger, we’d have been there.”

“No, you’d be taking a stroll down the street, assuming he was fine.”

Roa leapt forward, plenty fed up with Edward’s comments, and before Roy could do anything – anything that wouldn’t put the Hughes family in danger – Fullmetal had turned so that Elicia was out of the danger zone, crouched, and positioned his hand to slap the ground.

A sharp, “Roa!” froze all action.

“Check your temper. I don’t feel like saving you when you get in over your head.”

“But he—”

“Could kick your ass any day of the week. Now back up.”

Roa reluctantly did as he was told. Edward stood and handed Elicia over to Gracia. When he turned around, his eyes met Roy’s and the anger became evident. The blonde was furious.

“Can we get them out of here?”

 _Can we_. Edward had never asked for permission before.

“Take them to our house. Help them get settled in. I’ll join you when I can.”

Fullmetal’s fists clenched and unclenched, and then he nodded. Maes stepped towards his house and, by proxy, Roy.

“Let me get my keys.”

Gerard stepped in the opposite direction, towards his crew.

“We’re going to need you to stay for questioning.”

Gerard looked over at Roy as he passed, hands stuffed in his pockets and bored distaste painting his face.

“But not your boy and his sweetlings?”

“We know where to find them.”

“And Brad knows where to find me.”

“The Führer isn’t a part of this investigation.”

Gerard flashed his wolfishly amused smile.

“Isn’t he?”

And then, almost as if on cue, the contamination and interrogation squads showed up. The Führer was with them.

“Gerard. How pleasant to see you again.”

“Brad.”

And then Gerard walked away, and the Führer let him. Him and all three of his friends. The only direct witnesses.

“You all should go home as well. It’s been a tiring night, and you no doubt need your rest.”

Führer King Bradley was smiling kindly, and Roy hated him even more.

“I’d prefer to stay on the case.”

Roy stepped as close to rejecting the Führer’s order as his rank would allow, and Bradley’s smile became more genuine.

“My men will update you on what we find.”

They both knew there was no room for argument.

“Yes sir.”

Roy got back into his car, just as frustrated as Fullmetal, and once the rest of his makeshift family was situated, he drove home. He was glad he had at least told Havoc to head home rather than to Maes’ place. His assumption that he needed to keep the number of people obviously involved to a minimum turned out to be irritatingly true.

The drive home was silent, even Elicia knowing that it wasn’t the time to speak.

When they reached the house, Edward said, “You guys take my room.”

That was it. No smiles to Elicia or angry rants about the Führer. Maes looked as though he wanted to protest but most likely saw that his wife and daughter needed the bed more than the Edward. That or he just knew that arguing with an Elric was a waste of time.

Normally, Maes would sit with Roy and quietly discuss the events over coffee. Tonight, nothing could separate him from the family he nearly lost. Roy didn’t blame him.

The door shut between Roy and the Hughes family, and Roy returned to the kitchen. Fullmetal was on the living room floor, papers and books already strewn around him.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine.”

Golden eyes never left the page, and a gloved hand never stopped scribbling.

“Fullmetal, you couldn’t have stopped this.”

No response.

“You can’t blame yourself for everything that happens.”

No response.

“Edward—”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault or not. What matters is preventing it from happening in the future.”

But Edward’s voice lacked its usual passion. Instead, it was serious and unmoving. Political.

It didn’t suit him.

Roy walked over to the young man on the floor, looking down to see a half-drawn, complicated alchemic circle that he couldn’t even begin to guess the purpose of.

“May I help you?”

Golden eyes rose to meet obsidian, surprise coloring them brighter than usual. Roy would fight to keep that light there; to stop Edward from becoming just as angry and tainted as the rest of the military.

And the first step in that fight was showing the blonde support, no matter the situation.

Some of the anger; some of the pain was replaced by unsureness, and then Edward went back to his drawing.

“No.”

Roy, knowing that there was nothing he could currently do to change Fullmetal’s mind, turned and walked away. He didn’t even pause at the quiet “Thanks though,” if only to stop himself from spending the rest of the night reading on the couch.

A good portion of the night was spent awake anyhow, though looking over files on his bed instead of the couch. The early hours of the morning arrived before Roy departed for the realm of sleep. By the time he made his way back downstairs, Fullmetal had gathered more books and crumpled more papers but otherwise left no evidence of having moved from his spot.

Edward looked up, saw that Roy was ready, and started selecting the worthy papers and books to take with him. The phone rang, and Maes came down the stairs with Gracia and Elicia as Roy answered.

“Mustang residence.”

“Colonel Mustang! So glad I caught you in time.”

Roy tensed at the Führer’s voice.

“I just wanted to let you know that last night’s little mishap has been taken care of. The Hughes’ household was repaired by the best structural alchemists we could find, and everything can _and should_ return to normal.”

“What about the chimera?”

“It’s been taken care of. Have faith, Colonel.”

Through gritted teeth, Roy responded, “Of course.”

“Right, now if there are any more problems like this – any questions or concerns – you let me know.”

“Good day, Führer.”

“Good day.”

Roy was hanging up the phone even as the Führer spoke. Bradley was attempting to shove all of this underground; to take away Roy’s authority over the chimera situation.

The man causing the chimera situation in charge of ending the chimera situation.

Roy would rather die.

“Roy?”

“He says your house is fixed and to forget about last night.”

Maes grinned his family-man grin and scooped Elicia off the floor.

“You hear that, sweetie? We can go home!”

“Hurray!”

As he spun his daughter around in circles, he shot Roy a meaningful look.

As deep into the Führer’s business as Maes had been before, he was now determined to go deeper. What the Führer had failed to realize was that messing with a Hughes – any of them – wasn’t a mistake one could recover from.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Three days had passed since Gerard had killed Envy. Three days since Armstrong had dismissed the class to take personal time. Three days since Russell’s life had spiraled downward. And on the fourth day, he had to give up whatever pride this situation hadn’t taken by force. In Armstrong’s class, alone, he watched everyone else watch him, every single one of them stuck on the fact that _he_ was Envy’s partner. He had been with Envy. Around Envy. _Must_ have known what was going on.

And who would believe otherwise?

So, as he stood in front of the class, everyone but Elric staring him down, he didn’t bother explaining his innocence. Instead, he explained his situation.

“I’ve been staying with Envy for a few weeks now. Because I was staying with him, the school gave my dorm room to someone else. They can’t fix me up with a new one for another week.” Russell turned his eyes to the ground for a moment before raising them to show courage he didn’t feel. “I don’t care not to have a place; not usually. But my brother’s coming to visit tomorrow, and he needs a place to sleep. It’s only for a few days, and you really only have to house him, so if someone would…”

Russell trailed off. They were still just staring at him. Staring and waiting for the fountain of gossip to keep spewing.

“Mustang.” It was the last voice Russell expected to hear. “Let them have my room.”

Silence permeated the room for seconds that felt like hours before Roy responded.

“Alright.”

And just like that, Russell and Fletcher had a place to stay. He would be a guest in the house he had originally dreamed of, and it was because of a man who had yet to take his eyes from his god-damned books.

Russell sat down in his usual spot next to Roy, unsure of what this did to his rivalry with Edward Elric or his place on the proverbial totem pole. His world had tumbled, and Russell had tumbled with it.

After class, Russell got in the back of Roy’s car, relaxing only slightly when they dropped Elric off and went on to pick up his things from what was once Envy’s apartment. There were two large suitcases and a bag, all filled to the brim with either clothes or knickknacks.

Russell had been poor before, and he didn’t like the feeling. Material things helped him remember he wasn’t in that position anymore.

Roy didn’t seem to mind. Simply loaded them in his car and took them to his house. The small talk on the way there was meaningful – talk about why Fletcher was coming and how Russell was fairing – and even though Russell knew it didn’t mean much to Roy, to him it was gold. It had been a long time since Roy had paid attention – really paid attention – to Russell, and the blonde had missed it.

The house was better than Russell had imagined. It was large and elegant yet cozy. It was well-decorated and felt like a home, the only thing out of place being Elric sitting in the middle of the living room, surrounded by books and drawing something. Roy moved towards the stairs, but Russell hesitated.

“Thank you.”

Elric either ignored or didn’t hear him.

“For giving me your room, that is. Are there any things in there you want me to avoid or—”

“I already got my stuff out.” Elric motioned his head towards a black duffel that Russell hadn’t even noticed hidden among the books. “And don’t mention it.” Piercing golden eyes glanced up for a second of a second. “This is for your brother.”

At that, Russell really did relax. It was hard to accept kindness on his own behalf. Kindness for Fletcher was another matter entirely. He followed Roy up a staircase to a library with a bed in it. It looked just as impeccable as the rest of the house (ignoring the living room) and Russell chuckled somewhat nervously.

“He’s so messy that I half-expected this place to be a wreck.”

“It usually is.” Roy’s tone was flat, and Russell quickly moved inside to sit his things down. Roy followed suit. “I have to go to work, but feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. There’s a bathroom downstairs and a shower in my personal bathroom, though I’d prefer you wait until I get home to enter my room, if at all possible. If there’s anything you need, just ask Edward.”

Roy looked Russell over once more before moving to leave.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

And that was it. Roy had other things to do, and Russell… well, Russell had to call his brother.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

The morning after Roy agreed to let Russell stay in his house, Edward was the first one awake. He was sitting at the table, knapsack ready beside of him, reading a singular book by the time Roy came downstairs. There wasn’t even a notebook in the other hand.

“Morning, Fullmetal.”

“Can we stop by Maes’ place first?”

Fullmetal hadn’t seen the Hughes family since the night with Gerard and the chimera. He hadn’t spoken to Gerard in the same amount of time.

“We can, but if we want to catch them before they drop Elicia off at school, we’ll have to hurry.”

Roy looked back to see Russell coming down the stairs, hair still wet from his shower.

“Morning.”

“Mornin’.”

But Fullmetal’s dull greeting was said on the way to the car, and any sincerity it had was lost.

Russell was more reserved than usual; entirely unsure of his place in this unfamiliar ecosystem. Roy neither blamed him nor made an attempt to make him feel more comfortable. He had much more important things to worry about than the good impression of one teen.

Roy followed Edward to the car, taking the familiar route to Maes’ house as though they hadn’t been forced to check it for surveillance days beforehand. When they reached the house, Maes and Gracia were holding hands with Elicia, walking to their car as though they hadn’t been terrified of losing one another less than a week prior.

Maes halted his walk when he saw Roy’s car, apprehension for bad news deadening his eyes for a moment. His smile never wavered though, and he happily waved as Roy pulled off the side of the road. Fullmetal was the first to leave the car, Roy and Russell quickly following.

“Edward!”

Elicia let go of her parents’ hands and ran to hug Edward, who easily picked her up into a tight hug. Maes questioned Roy with his eyes, and Roy responded in much the same manner that he had no idea. Elicia’s gasp of delight drew their attention back to her and Fullmetal.

“Pretty!”

She had something in her hands that Roy couldn’t discern, and Edward grinned as he lowered her to the ground.

“You think so? Because…” Fullmetal drew out the ‘because’ as he reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a necklace with a small red-swirled gold gem on it. “This one’s for you!”

The little girl squealed happily as she grabbed the necklace from him, staring at it for no more than a few seconds before shoving it over her head. She squealed again, gripping the gem tightly in her hands as she hopped up and down.

“Ah, hey hey. It’s a special necklace.” He carefully peeled her hands open so that the gem was just sitting in the crevice of her palms. “I made it to keep you safe. You see, your necklace matches my necklace, and when I hold it lightly,” Edward curled his hand around his own necklace and Elicia’s expression twisted into one of amazement, “yours will feel warm. And if I grip it even tighter…”

“It’s _really_ warm!”

“That’s right! And mine reacts the same when you hold it. If you hold it, I’ll know. You only grip it extra tightly if you’re in trouble though. If you need me, you just grab onto this and I’ll come help you.”

Elicia stared at Fullmetal with just as much awe as Roy felt before looking down at the necklace and slowly taking it off. She turned and walked over to Maes, watching the gem the whole time before gently holding it up to her father.

“I want Daddy to have it.” She glanced back to Edward. “You can keep my daddy safe, right?”

Roy didn’t have to look to see the entwined sadness and love splashed across Maes’ and Gracia’s faces.

“Sweetie, I—”

“I have one for him, too. Him, Uncle Roy, and your mom.” Edward removed three more necklaces from his pocket. One had a blue-swirled gold gem, one had a silver-swirled gold gem, and the last had one of each. “If something happens to your daddy, he can contact both your mom and Uncle Roy, and they can both contact him in return. They’ll be safe.”

And just like that, Elicia was shoving her necklace back over her head and dancing around. Fullmetal walked over to the rest of the adults, giving Maes the necklace with two gems, Gracia the one with blue swirls, and Roy the one with silver swirls.

“You guys heard how it works, ri—”

Edward was interrupted by Gracia wrapping him in a hug.

“Oh, thank you!” She held him tightly, and Edward chuckled awkwardly.

“No problem. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to any of you.”

But Gracia wasn’t ready to let go yet, and Roy thought she might be near tears. When she did release him, it was Maes that slung his arm over Edward’s shoulders and pulled him in. Maes’ grin was wide enough to hurt, and he pressed his face into Edward’s hair as a quick thanks before letting go.

“Now, we’ve got to get to class, and I don’t want Elicia to be late for school, either.” He turned to Elicia. “And remember, if you’re in trouble, you…”

“Hold my necklace extra tight!”

“Yes ma’am! Now be good in school today, alright?”

Edward ruffled Elicia’s hair and nodded to Maes and Gracia, who looked much lighter than when they had first arrived.

“Thank you, Edward.”

“Thank you Edward!”

“Thank you, Ed.”

All three thanks came simultaneously. Maes reached up to touch the gems of his necklace, causing warmth to spread across Roy’s chest. Almost equally amazing was the amount of warmth that stayed when Maes let go. The gem itself made Roy feel… happy. They were back in the car a minute later.

“How did you do that?”

Russell wasted no time in questioning what he had just seen while Roy was still marveling over the new jewelry he had acquired.

“Core alchemy.”

“You have an Energy Core. You can’t do Core alchemy with it.”

“Tell that to my Core.”

“I’m not saying what you did isn’t impressive; I’m just saying it couldn’t be Core Alchemy.”

Powerful golden eyes glanced at the rearview mirror, and Roy had no doubt that what Edward claimed was true. Core Alchemy only required power and control, and Fullmetal had both in spades. Unfortunately, that power had to come from the Core itself, and if the blonde cared to keep up his charade of having a weak Steel Core, he would need to stop acting on anger and impulse.

Roy’s eyes met Edward’s, and the Colonel reinforced his belief that, at least sometimes, manipulation was a necessity.

“I’ve got to side with Russell on this one. The fact that you have an Energy Core can be overlooked, but even Alphonse would have a hard time doing Core Alchemy, and his is much stronger than yours.”

Fullmetal’s teeth bared, but his only verbal reaction was a terse, “Yeah, whatever.”

Once Edward got out of the car he slammed the door behind him, and only after he was well out of ear-shot did Russell quietly ask, “Who’s he trying to impress?”

With just as much falsity as 75% of his other statements, Roy responded, “Who knows?”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Gerard didn’t love nice things. He loved enviable things. He loved things that made him feel just as expensive and unattainable as he was. He loved the knowledge that he could have and do whatever he wanted, and he loved making sure everyone else had that knowledge, too.

The one thing in his life that seemed to go against that knowledge was red-clad and standing on the other side of his desk. Edward Elric, the hot-headed, prodigious, almost overly-attractive state alchemist was the only thing Gerard wanted and wasn’t entirely sure he could have.

Unlike the others, when Ed said no, he wasn’t playing coy or hard to get. He honest-to-goodness didn’t care about Gerard’s looks or money or power, even when Gerard wanted him to.

“Teach me.”

Gerard raised a brow at the abrupt order.

“You said you could up my chances against the chimeras, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

Golden eyes narrowed angrily.

“Then do it.”

Gerard looked past Ed to see a rather protective – rather _jealous_ – looking Colonel entering the room, and his lips tilted in an arrogant grin.

“What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

Gerard let his mind wander along with his eyes. He wanted a lot of things. He wanted Edward’s obtrusive jacket to stop hiding what was sure to be enticing automail. He wanted to have an intelligent conversation that ended in making out, at minimum. He wanted a sincere thank you for willingly putting himself in Brad’s crosshairs. He wanted crème brûlée.

Grey eyes met obsidian over the blonde’s shoulder, and Gerard’s mind was made up.

“Kiss me.”

Gorgeous lips twisted in a snarl, and Gerard decided he would be throwing physical combat into the lesson plan. If dancing with Ed were fun, a fist-fight would be glorious.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“C’mon now, Ed. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of kissing before.”

Gerard kept his eyes on Ed’s lips the whole time, waiting for them to purse and give in. It would be a soft kiss, embarrassed and quick; something that Ed would be trying to find a way around every step of the way. He would hesitate at the last minute before giving in and—

Gerard’s pupil’s dilated in genuine surprise when Ed reached across the desk, curled his fingers into white fur, and yanked Gerard forward. First, Gerard noted the edge of the wooden desk digging into his abdomen. Then he noted lips pressed forcefully against his own in a tactless, clumsy, butterfly-inducing kiss. Edward (just as forcefully) shoved him away a few seconds later. It took Gerard’s spine colliding with the back of his chair for him to realize it was over. Half a second later, Gerard raised his brows in mock-surprise.

“You really think one kiss is enough to sate me?”

“The deal wasn’t to sate you. It—”

“—was to kiss. You should really work on your pick-up lines. I’ve heard this one before.” Gerard felt a sprinkle of something genuine – something other than egotism or mischief – intruding on his smile. “So, let’s call it Sunday at 6:30. Meet me at the library, and if I were you,” Gerard ran his eyes suggestively down Ed’s body, “I’d ditch the cloak.”

“Sunday? Why not tonight?”

“I have plans tonight. And tomorrow night, for that matter. I don’t have any plans on Sunday, but I really hate waking up in the mornings, and I don’t think I’ll feel like doing anything until after dinner.”

The frustration and irritation that flooded amber eyes gave Gerard a shot of adrenaline.

“Fucking fine. Sunday. But you’d damn well better be on time.”

Ed angrily moved to his seat, and Gerard took pride in the fact that said seat was still beside of him. Almost as much pride, in fact, as the pride that came from seeing the Colonel’s face afterwards.

Gerard rewarded the look of calculation and distrust with a dazzling grin.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed didn’t see what the big deal was. So he kissed Gerard. Mustang would have kissed him, too, if it meant keeping Maes or Elicia safe.

“You aren’t _listening_ to me. It’s bad enough that the Führer is after you. There’s no need to get mixed up with the rest of the Homunculi family, too.”

Ed glared at Mustang, who had all but demanded they have a meeting in his room, and wished that Namae hadn’t said basically the same thing.

“Greeling is an asshole, but he isn’t bad. And if I get in over my head, I’ll kick his ass and—”

“ _It’s not that simple_. Gerard has been living under the radar for as long as I can remember, and not to sell cookies. Whatever he’s peddling, you don’t want it.”

“Yeah? And who are you to say what I do and don’t want?”

Different calculations and manipulations flew through Mustang’s eyes before coming to an abrupt halt as he turned around and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m not the enemy here, Fullmetal. I’m trying to help you.”

“Why? So that you can be the one to kiss me next time? It’s all about you in the end, isn’t it, Colonel?”

Mustang turned around with an anger in his eyes that Ed hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“You really think this is about some stupid kiss? Gerard Homunculi is a wild card who’s just killed his own brother to save a family that, before this, he had never met before. Does nothing in that sentence strike you as odd? Tell me, Fullmetal, how is it that you can be so brilliant when seeing through my manipulations and so stupid when it comes to Gerard’s?”

Ed’s grimace turned to a growl as his anger took over.

“Maybe because he’s not manipulating me. Unlike you, he’s straightforward with what he wants. He doesn’t twist people around his finger to get something, he just goes out and gets it. And it’s none of your god-damn business, but maybe that’s how he’ll get me, too.”

When Ed stormed out of the room, he slammed the door behind him. When he passed Russell in the kitchen, he ignored the man’s existence. When he went outside, the conversation angrily replayed in his head. By the time he got to the park, he realized that Mustang may have a point. Did Gerard use straight manipulation? No. Was his recent string of activity incredibly out of character? Yes.

And worse than that, Ed had used the Colonel’s feelings against him in one of the lowest ways possible.

“Shit.”

Whether out of a genuine need to clear his mind or sheer embarrassment, Ed didn’t get back until after midnight. There were three pairs of shoes at the front door, so Ed assumed picking up Fletcher had been a success. He added his boots to the line-up, sat on the couch, and tapped his fingers on his knee twice before reminding himself that Mustang rarely actually went to sleep before two.

Bullheadedness being the only convincer that he shouldn’t wait until morning, Ed padded up the stairs to Mustang’s study. Light shone through the crack under the door, and Ed rapped his knuckles against the wood with barely audible force.

“Come in.”

Mustang looked neither surprised nor pleased to see Ed. Ed was both surprised and displeased to see his notebook sitting in front of Mustang.

“Are those my notes?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t be speaking to me until after your little meet-up with Gerard, and at least one of us needs to be working on the chimera case in the meantime.”

“What happened to you not wanting me on the case?”

“What happened to you not listening to me?”

Ed rolled his eyes and threaded his fingers into his bangs; eyes trained on the ceiling as he tried to retain his sanity.

“I—” Ed took a deep breath. “I came in here to say I’m sorry. So I’m sorry. Good night.”

“Fullmetal.”

Ed turned his attention back to Mustang with equal parts irritation and tiredness.

“There’s new information on the recent chimera attack.” Mustang paused, a certain fatigue entering his eyes as he gauged Ed’s body language. “It had human in it.”

“I kind of figured.”

But Mustang’s lips thinned into a nearly pitying line, and Ed prepped himself for the worst.

“Who was it?”

“Sheska.”

Ed’s heart plummeted into his stomach. Sheska was supposed to have been spending a few days with her parents while they were in town. She had been so excited. Alive.

“God damn it.” Ed’s hands curled into fists, and he had to restrain himself from putting a hole in Mustang’s door. “God damn it!”

Anger and frustration filled Ed until he felt suffocated. Why did all the good people have to die?

Sheska’s smile flashed through his head. Then Nina’s. His mom’s.

“She liked you, you know? Liked to talk about you.” Ed refused to look at Mustang as he spoke. “She thought your smile and hair and eyes were great, but what she loved was your political platform. She’d gush about it every time I went to the library. Maybe…” Ed uncurled his fist to examine the little details of his metal hand. “Maybe if she lived long enough, she’d have gathered up the courage to tell you that.”

“Maybe.”

Gold met black, and Ed snarled, “I’m going to find who did this.”

“We.”

“What?”

“ _We’ll_ find who did this, Fullmetal. You aren’t alone.”

Despite the comforting words and soothing tone, Ed’s anger flared.

“Yeah. I’ve got the military at my back, causing this whole thing.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Then clarify. Who _exactly_ is going to help me? You? Your team? Maes? Greeling? Are you going to drag my brother down here again and—”

“Could you control your anger for _one second_ and _listen_ to me? You storm out of here because you’re angry, come back because you realize you acted rashly out of anger, and attempt an apology just to get angry again! It’s not a logical progression.”

As much as Ed hated it, he couldn’t argue with logic and settled for crossing his arms in a huff.

“Yes, I’m here for you. And my unit is at your disposal; we’ve gone over that. Maes is doing everything he can against the Führer and his sect of the military, and if you could _stop_ shoving my mistakes in my face every chance you get, I would be—”

“Mustang, shut up.”

“No, Fullmetal. I—”

“You’re damn-well fed up with me doing whatever I want. I get that. I’m not great with authority, and you’ve got this thing about staying constantly authoritative.” Ed stared Mustang down as he forced himself not to hesitate. “I know you’re trying to help, alright? I know you’re all trying to help. I know I can count on you. _That’s the problem_. The more people get involved in this, the more people are available to die in the crossfire.”

And suddenly, Ed wished he had chosen a spot above Mustang’s head to stare at. The sheer amount of understanding that suddenly burst into obsidian eyes made Ed feel like Mustang could see into his soul.

“That’s why you work alone.”

“Yeah.” Ed’s mouth felt dry and his tone was terse. “That’s why I work alone.”

“Edward, that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity! You’ve been alone, and you’ve done well on your own, but you don’t have to do that anymore. None of us are going to run off and die any time soon.”

“Tell that to Sheska.”

“Fullmetal. Fullmetal, can we have an actual conversation?”

“We can try, but everything that comes out of your mouth makes me want to kill either myself or you. Usually you.”

“Why are you so insistent on hating me?”

“Because you’re a bastard.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Everything you do drives me fucking insane.”

“Well it isn’t on purpose, Edward. I’ve been trying my damnedest to accommodate you, your whims, and your seemingly endless mood swings. If you’ll be so kind as to tell me what I should do instead of getting needlessly angry at my attempts to help, that would be _fantastic_.”

Ed narrowed his eyes, unable to believe the Colonel’s hand curling into black locks.

“Are _you_ angry? The hell gives you the right to be angry? I’ve been staying out of your way for everything except helping with the chimera case.”

“Out of my way?” Mustang’s hands hit the desk as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ve been bending over backwards to make you comfortable while you just stare at your books and complain about my existence.”

“You? Bending over backwards?”

“Me. Bending over backwards.”

“Name one time.”

“Making the library into a bedroom, keeping your equally willful brother in the house while you fought a chimera, making sure you ate after the Hughes were attacked, letting the Tringhams stay in my home, covering for your naivety concerning Gerard. Need I go on?”

“Fuck you, Mustang. You can’t blame me for decisions you made!”

“They’re decisions I made for _you_.”

“And why the hell would you even bother?”

“Because I like you! How someone so god-forsakenly smart can be so blindingly stupid is beyond me.”

“You _like_ me. _You_ like _me_. You keep saying that, but I don’t think you understand what it means. So get this through your head: I’m. Not. Likable. I’m not nice or attractive or personable. I’m stubborn, I get angry easily, I cuss a lot, and once I get on a topic I like, everything else pretty much melts away. I’m not someone you want to spend forever with. Hell, I’m not someone you _can_ spend forever with. Now get over this dumb obsession with conquering me or whatever the fuck this is and go bond with the first political princess that strikes your fancy.”

Creamy lids closed tightly enough to crinkle as Mustang’s upper lip curled upwards. A second later, his hands left the desk and long legs strode towards Ed. Before the blonde could even think about making a snarky comment, fingers were curled into his cloak and their lips were connected. Pleasure seared through Ed’s body and forced a moan to well up in his chest. It may have even escaped his lips, but his head was too fuzzy with desire to clue him in.

Mustang’s tongue barely had time to trace his bottom lip before Ed’s mouth opened in a warm invitation. As though the two were working off the same signals, as Mustang’s tongue pushed into Ed’s mouth, his body pushed Ed against the door. Elegant fingers traced Ed’s torso with light yet intense touches, practically shoving his cloak off to feel mismatched shoulders.

For a moment, Ed was consumed with the feeling of perfection. Then the perfection heightened to toe-curling, hand-trembling, white-lighted beauty as their partial bond grew stronger, and Ed promptly grabbed ahold of the front of Mustang’s uniform to forcibly knee the Colonel in the stomach. Mustang let go of Ed and took a step back, coughing as he caught his breath.

“You knew. _You fucking knew!_ How long have you known?”

“Edward, wait.”

“You figure out my Core and the first thing you try to do is bond with me? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“The first thing? Edward, I’ve known since your fight with the chimera. And I wasn’t trying to force you into bonding; I was trying to prove a point.”

“And you think _that_ was the best way to do it?”

“No! That’s just it, Fullmetal. I didn’t think! When I think, I line things up and manipulate. This is what happens when I don’t control the scene.”

Mustang turned away from Ed, hand fisting in black locks before he twisted back around.

“It’s not like I just up-and-decided, ‘Hey, why not fall for the stubborn, single-minded, oblivious, emotional rollercoaster of a prodigy? That sounds _fun_.’ I didn’t _choose_ to like you. Believe me, going after literally anyone else would be weight off my shoulders. Unfortunately, I _like_ chasing after you. I like watching you work and making sure take care of yourself. I adore seeing you fumble in the kitchen and perform complicated alchemy like it’s child’s-play. I enjoy dealing with your family and supporting you as you stand up for what you believe in. _I like you_.”

Ed stared at Mustang, the words circling in his head and warming his bones. Mustang _did_ know him. He knew about Ed’s Core, and he had found out about it _after_ confessing. After confessing and without changing how he acted towards Ed.

Now the only problem was the fact that Mustang was, well, Mustang. He was egotistical and strong-willed. He manipulated everyone and everything.  He apparently fell apart when manipulating left the equation. More than that, he was a politician and a military man, and any life with him would ensure a life mixed with both of those fields, too.

The Colonel certainly liked Ed, but Ed wasn’t so sure he liked the Colonel.

“I need to think.”

“Edward—”

“Just give me some time, alright? I’ll give you an answer when I’m ready.”

As Mustang stared him down and nodded, no doubt trying his hardest not to plan a way to sway things in his favor, Ed wondered if there were such thing as a right answer.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Roy hated a lot of things. He hated waking up early to allow time for the two extra guests in his house to shower. He hated that the dream he had woken up from involved Fullmetal falling willingly into his arms. He hated that he knew Fullmetal’s kisses were better in reality than they were in his dreams. More than that, he hated Fletcher and his constant spew of praise for Russell at six in the damn morning.

It was how Roy imagined Alphonse would be if he were less brilliant.

“…it’s so awesome that you decided to let us stay with you after the ordeal with Envy. Russell wasn’t really meant to be there anyway, you know?” Fletcher talked with his mouth full. Roy hated that, too. “He’s one of the best alchemists I’ve ever met, you know, and I’m not just saying that.”

The only things Roy got from Fletcher’s never-ending stream of words were that he had a brother-complex and he knew about his brother’s crush on Roy. Neither facts were useful. When Edward finally walked into the house – Roy had no clue where he’d ran off to after their mildly-intense conversation and kiss – Roy learned a third fact: Fletcher had heard Russell complain about Edward before.

“Hey, you’re the guy who’s always trying to best Russ, right?”

Fletcher’s half-eaten toast hung limply between them as he used it to point at Edward. Much like he would Russell, Edward ignored the boy entirely.

“Mustang, where’s the notebook you had last night?”

“In my room.”

Fullmetal went up the stairs without another word.

“Rude much?”

“He’s always like that.”

“I can see why you don’t like him.”

Russell and Fletcher shared a look, and Roy became increasingly impatient with them. His home was not meant for teenagers’ idle gossip. Edward came back down the stairs a minute later, flipping through the complex notes like they were nothing.

“Did you get to my notes on Core alchemy?”

Fullmetal walked to where Roy stood with a practiced ease, letting the Flame Alchemist know that he was over – or at least okay with – what had transpired the night before.

“No. I got stuck around your theory on separation alchemy.”

Edward’s brows rose, giving Roy the knowledge that he considered it one of his easier theories.

“...Huh. It’s pretty easy when you consider how particular molecular make-up of certain substances can—” Fullmetal stopped himself as he realized he was getting off-topic. “Never mind. I’ll explain that later. A few pages after that, I start in on Core alchemy. In my notes, I mainly stuck to how Cores are identified and the process of tapping into the Core itself for alchemic purposes instead of using it only as a funnel. Because a Core is just a bundle of energy connecting you to the energy of the world, you’re obviously absorbing and expelling alchemic energy all the time – whether you mean to or not. Right?”

No part of that had been obvious to Roy, but he understood well enough to nod.

“Right. So, imagine if that energy you’re expelling is like DNA and—”

“And it leaves behind an identifiable residue.”

Edward’s grin made pride well in Roy’s chest.

“Exactly. And I was thinking that if we can identify that residue and trace it back to a particular source, we should also be able to set up a perimeter of sorts; one that tells us if particular Cores have entered a particular area. The residue fades pretty quickly – within an hour or two – but it would let us know for sure—”

“If people we don’t want have been in an area we don’t want. That’s brilliant, Fullmetal.”

It would certainly give them a leg-up on the Führer front. If they could tell when the man was too close for comfort – or who had been in the area around the time a chimera was released – they would gain exponential ground in the chimera case.

“How did you come up with this?” Roy caught sight of their captive – if not slightly confused – audience as Edward opened his mouth to respond and: “Actually, I need to get to work. Tell me later?”

Fullmetal caught the drift and nodded, turning his attention back to his notebook and stealing a piece of toast as he moved towards the door to the living room.

Once he had gone, Fletcher said, “What was that about?”

Russell, somewhat embarrassed, shrugged.

“Something about Core alchemy being like DNA or… something.” He looked over to Roy, who was personally glad that neither blonde was smart enough to keep up with Edward’s fast-paced explanations, and said, “It’s probably for their Theoretical vs. Practical Transmutations class, and I haven’t had that yet.”

Fletcher nodded, apparently considering it a perfectly reasonable excuse for not being able to keep up. Roy just patted his pocket for his keys and moved towards the garage.

“You can call me or ask Fullmetal if you need anything. I’ll be back tonight.”

Roy gave the Tringham brothers no more thought as he vacated his home. He needed to get to the office, clue Maes in on what he had learned—Roy reached up to touch his necklace, knowing the pleasant warmth that would spread through Maes’ chest—and pour over whatever information his team had gathered on how Sheska had gone missing and what all went into her chimera.

He had a long day ahead of him.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed had spent the majority of the previous night wandering aimlessly through the backstreets, thinking over everything Mustang had said. Everything he now knew.

Mustang liked him – _really_ liked him – and was someone Ed could actually bond with. He liked listening to Ed’s theories and tended to catch on relatively quickly. His praise, scarce as it was, made Ed’s stomach do pleasant flips. The problem was he couldn’t tell whether anything he felt was real or a byproduct of his Core. When Mustang had strengthened their bond last night, it stayed strengthened. It made Ed feel warm inside even now, hours after the fact.

Did Ed like the way Mustang made him feel or the way his Core made him feel?

After hours of walking, the only conclusion he had come to was that social interactions weren’t his forte. He would need someone else’s opinion, and the only thing he could do in the meantime was stop acting like a damn coward and interact with the Colonel as a person.

A person who happened to twist his Core into knots and wanted to lead him down a path of militia and politics.

God it was hard not to be bias.

Ed frowned as his attention was drawn back to his transmutation circle, well-aware that it wouldn’t do what he wanted in its current state. If he added concentration runes, he would know when someone entered the specified area, but it would take away from the who and leave them with no way to ignore approved persons.

“…aren’t as great as you think.”

Ed blinked and looked up as a voice broke through his musings. Fletcher was standing in front of him, hands fisted on his hips and lips twisted into a frown.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Ed returned Fletcher’s confidence with a blank stare. This happened sometimes: he would be too consumed in his work to realize what was going on in the outside world. Assuming from Fletcher’s condescending pose that he hadn’t missed anything important, Ed looked back to his notes.

If he readjusted the phrasing, it was possible he could—

“Don’t ignore me!”

Ed looked up again, more than a little exasperated.

“ _What?”_

Fletcher hesitated at Ed’s rough demeanor, and Ed noticed for the first time that Russell wasn’t in the room.

“I- I said that I don’t like the way you treat my brother like he isn’t there. He’s a great alchemist, and just because you got us a place to stay – which isn’t even your own place – you act like you’re better than us! Russ’ life was awesome until you walked into it and took everything he wanted.” Fletcher’s eyes narrowed into a glare, and he said, “Roy was going to pick him before you came along, you know.”

There was a bitterness that Ed immediately recognized as jealousy – the awareness of what others had that he didn’t – and Ed wondered what this kid had been through to covet the little that Ed had obtained.

“I can’t help that he picked me.”

“That’s a lie! You must have done something! Otherwise Russ would’ve been—he _deserved_ to be—”

“Don’t waste your breath, Fletch. Roy chose him, and that’s all there is to it. Besides, he’s the kind of guy who’s always gotten what he wanted. He wouldn’t understand.”

Russell stepped into the room and dismissed the conversation with a few short sentences. Fletcher, however reluctantly, nodded. Russell gave Ed a look that was neither apologetic nor condemning and left the room without another word. Fletcher followed eagerly behind. After a full minute of staring at the empty doorway, Ed scoffed.

Always gotten what he wanted. Right.

He went back to tweaking the transmutation circle without sparing the oblivious brothers another thought.

**(***Intertwined***)**

“Edward! What a pleasant surprise!” Maes’ grin brightened as he tossed an arm around Ed’s shoulders and guided him into his office. When the door shut behind them, he pulled out his wallet. “I bet you’re here for a few pictures of my darling Elicia! The pictures from the ball just came back, and she is absolutely—”

“He knows about my Core.”

Ed’s interruption got Maes’ attention, and Maes took the time to re-fold his wallet to think about his response.

He had known Ed would catch onto the fact that Roy knew sooner or later.  What he wasn’t sure of was how either of them had reacted.

Maes tested the waters with a simple, “Are you sure?”

Ed offered a derisive snort in response.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Fucker tried to bond with me for a second there.”

Maes’ brows rose all the way to his hairline. Well, that hadn’t been what he was expecting.

“But he stopped when you told him to?”

“He stopped when I introduced my knee to his gut.”

Fair enough.

“How do you feel about him knowing?”

Ed looked off to the side, staring determinedly at the wall as he tried to sort out his emotions, and Maes leaned against his desk as he waited.

“I don’t want to be some political tool.”

“Roy considers everyone a political tool. That doesn’t mean you aren’t a person, too.”

“I don’t want to be a military dog.”

“Are you sure? The military isn’t all life-on-the-road and killing chimeras. There’s always a job open for you in the Intelligence department.”

Ed hesitated, as though he hadn’t considered the military being anything outside of what he had already experienced, and Maes wondered why the eldest Elric was looking so hard for an excuse to stray from Roy’s side.

“There are also plenty of people in the military with bond-mates outside of the military. Gracia, for example. You could be a teacher. Or a theorist.”

“He could never love me.”

“Oh?”

“He likes me now, but I’m still new and interesting. In a couple of years – maybe _months_ – he’ll get caught up on some other pretty face, and I’ll be stuck. We both have… you know. There’s no un-bonding for us.

“How can you be sure?”

Ed threw his hands up in frustration, unable to believe Maes was asking such a ridiculous question. In that motion, Maes saw the deep-seated self-hatred and inability to see anything but the worst case scenario.

“Because that’s what he does! You’re his best friend; you know how he works. There’s a week of living the high-life and being showered in attention, and there’s the rest of your life to reminisce over that perfect week and what could have been. I’m not stupid, Maes. I know what he wants from me, and I know how I’ll feel once he’s finished.”

Ed ran his hand through his hair, pushing his bangs back against his scalp, and looked Maes in the eyes. He didn’t look sad or desperate, just tired.

“I didn’t come to ask if I should accept him. I came because I want to know how to turn him down.”

Maes smiled, sure that was what Ed thought he wanted, and said, “Give him a chance. One date.”

Ed’s expression turned exasperated – as though that was the last thing in the world he wanted to hear – and Maes decided to give him the extra push he needed.

“Look, Ed, you’re a genius. So you’ve got to know you didn’t come here for advice on how to turn him down. If you really didn’t want him, you’d tell him to get lost like you’ve done a million or more times before this.”

“No! I don’t—I don’t like Mustang.”

“No?”

“I just don’t hate him anymore, either.”

And there is was. Maes smiled and moved towards Ed, using a gentle hand on a metal shoulder to guide them both towards the exit.

“One date. That’s my advice.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Gerard bought a seven-course meal, a new pair of gloves, a new pair of boots, a very expensive haircut, a bottle of champagne, another bottle of champagne after he finished the first, a new vest (which looked the same as his old vest, only more expensive), and a new pair of knuckle-dusters the _exact_ same shade of gold as Edward’s eyes.

He had claimed to have plans just because he liked the way Ed looked when he got angry, but his need for instant gratification was regretting it now. Saturday had been fun (wining and dining and fucking _a lot_ ) and Sunday had been tortuous (buying tons of things he didn’t need in an attempt to fill the void of boredom in his chest). And now, finally – _finally_ – it was time to meet the blonde-haired, golden-eyed minx who taunted his every daydream.

“You’re early.”

Gerard was early, too, but Ed didn’t seem to notice that. In fact, if Gerard had to wager a guess, he’d say the blonde was too far buried in his books to notice much of anything.

“I thought I said to ditch the cloak.”

Gerard was louder and closer, and Ed didn’t react at all.

“I was actually thinking we could forget about making you stronger and just fuck. That alright with you?”

No response.

Gerard chuckled, taking a moment to just look at Edward. Then he strode closer, observing the way blonde bangs made curtains for golden eyes and the fact that Ed didn’t have to look at his notebook to write in it (though he probably should as it was nowhere near legible).

“Ed?”

Gerard was an arm’s length from Edward, and he crouched down to get a better look at the way gold eyes focused on the book. His concentration was all-consuming, and Gerard decided he liked the way Ed could block out the world. He could relate to that sort of tunnel-vision, and he enjoyed the thought of startling the blonde out of it in various, sexual ways.

Gerard reached forward, fingertips barely brushing the ends of blonde bangs before a strong hand came up and gripped his wrist. Hard. If Gerard’s skin wasn’t so tough, it may have even bruised him.

Gerard liked that, too.

Gerard made a show of moving out of Ed’s personal space, and Ed released his wrist without a fuss.

“How long have you been here?”

“A few minutes. How is it I’ve never noticed how hot you are when you’re reading?”

But Ed just scoffed and closed his book, stacking his notebook on top of that as he stood.

“I’m here to get stronger, not to amuse your sick sense of humor.”

“Are those tasks separate?”

Ed scoffed again, and Gerard grinned before turning to where he had parked his car. The blonde followed without saying anything, apparently already having figured out that they wouldn’t be staying at the library.

Ed was neither impressed nor unimpressed by Gerard’s car (the latest on the market), and Gerard wondered if there was anything he could buy that _would_ impress the blonde. Books, probably. His grin widened as he sped down the road, not paying the slightest attention to the speed limit.

He had never bought a library before.

Gerard drifted into his overly-large driveway and shut off the car. Ed looked expectedly unimpressed by his house, and Gerard led him easily through the doorway, multiple hallways, and into a sparring room. Blonde brows scrunched together.

“We’re fighting?”

“Unless you’re scared.”

A frown tugged at Ed’s lips as the confusion left his face, and instead of responding, he sat his books on the floor and shed his cloak and gloves.

Gerard took a moment to catch his breath. He had imagined Ed’s mismatched body parts would be tantalizing, but that didn’t even begin to describe it. The too-large cloak hid not only the material of his arms but the firm musculature within his flesh. It downsized broad shoulders and downplayed the confident, powerful posture that dared someone to go against him. Ed had looked good in a suit, but this—this was brilliant.

Gerard tossed his glasses onto the pile of red cloth and followed Ed to the middle of the room.

“Well?”

“Hit me.”

Blonde brows shot up, though Ed looked far from unwilling, and Gerard’s grin widened.

“G’head. I can take it.”

Ed didn’t need to be told a third time. He widened his stance, raised his fist, and slammed it into Gerard’s chest. While Gerard felt no pain from the hit, he certainly felt the force behind it. He made a show of not reacting as he tilted his head, silently questioning if that was all Ed had. Ed, in return, growled and hit him again. Harder. And then once more even harder than that. A fourth time with his automail, forcing Gerard to take a stumbling step back.

“The hell are you made of?”

But the question was rhetorical, and Ed wasted no time in hitting him again. Three punches and a roundhouse kick after that, the blonde became off-put enough to want an answer. Well-aware that he and Ed were about to get a lot closer and loving the anticipation of it all, Gerard slipped off his vest.

It had been a long time since he had felt this _interested_.

**(***Intertwined***)**

When Greeling pulled his shirt over his head with an unnecessary flourish, Ed wanted to roll his eyes. He probably would have if he weren’t so concentrated on the unnatural blackness of Greeling’s torso.

“The fuck?”

But Greeling only grinned, and Ed took that as permission to investigate himself. He closed what little distance was between them and crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet to give him the proper height needed to be face-to-face with Greeling’s abdomen. It was startlingly black, fading only around the edges of his abdomen. Ed reached forward and ran his flesh fingers over the middle of the blackness. Taut abs (Greeling could no doubt give it as good as he got it) tensed under his touch, but Ed ignored that in favor of pressing down. It didn’t feel like flesh. It felt more like stone.

Greeling wasn’t made of stone though. To reinforce what he was (mostly) sure he knew, Ed moved to press against Greeling’s side. Flesh molded to his ministrations, as flesh should, before white became black and his side felt like stone, too. Ed tilted his head to the side as he lowered his hand, resting both forearms on his knees.

So, it was controllable. That made sense, seeing as Greeling had no way of knowing where Ed – or anyone else – would hit him. It begged the question of what, exactly, his skin was becoming though. Hard like rock, but unscathed from Ed’s hits. Ed had broken rock before. He hadn’t been hitting Greeling as hard as he could, but he was hitting hard enough to leave marks. Even rock would have been scratched.

Which meant Greeling wasn’t turning himself to stone. It had to be something else—something that felt like rock, only harder. And if this was alchemy (What else could it be?), it had to be something with materials found in the human body. Ed raised his hand to touch Greeling’s skin again, brows furrowed in concentration, and was surprised when the blackness beneath his fingers vanished.

Ed looked up to see Greeling grinning down at him and took that as his cue to stand and put space between them.

“Like what you see?”

“You’re transmuting your skin. I thought you couldn’t do alchemy.”

“I’m capable.”

There was a dark humor in Greeling’s voice that said Ed was missing something, and Ed narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out what.

“How?”

Greeling’s grin said that was for him to figure out on his own, and Ed sneered.

“If you aren’t going to show me how to do that, what are we here for?”

“A good talk, a quick spar, and a long fuck, not necessarily in that order.”

Ed stared at Greeling, unsure if the man was serious or not, when he finally caught the drift.

The spar was to see what Greeling’s shield-skin could take—what Ed would be able to take once he could do that.

The talk was for when Ed figured out what, exactly, Greeling was doing.

And the fuck… Well, Ed was sure Greeling would have sex with him at the drop of a hat, so that was probably in the “as soon as you consent” category.

Suddenly, Ed’s grin matched Greeling’s, and his only warning before charging the taller man was to flex his fist.

He had been wanting a good spar.

**(***Intertwined***)**

It was nearing eleven o’clock when Ed finally got back to Mustang’s house. He was tired, he was sweaty, and above all-else, he was hungry. Mustang and the Tringham brothers were, surprisingly, all at the dinner table. Ed huffed as he realized that now was the prime time for a shower and resigned himself to waiting a little longer to eat. He moved to his duffel bag, groaning when he found all the clothes inside (save a pair of sweat pants) were dirty.

His stomach growled at him as he picked up the duffel and slung it over his shoulder, knowing this side-trip to the laundry room only could only mean a longer period without food. Ed dumped everything but the clean pair of sweats into the washer (pretty much everything he owned was black, and his cloak had been washed enough times for it not to matter) before stripping and adding his current clothes, too. Once he started the wash, he dawned his sweats for the short walk to the bathroom.

Mustang’s room was as impeccable as ever, and Ed tried to ignore how heavily the room smelled of the Colonel. When had he become sensitive to things like that?

His shower was quick (anything standing between him and food needed to be quick), and Ed barely had enough patience to run a brush through his hair before heading back downstairs.

When Ed entered the kitchen, conversation stopped. Both the Tringham brothers stared at him – at his mismatched arms in plain view, at his mismatched toes poking out from under his sweats, at his scars – and Mustang was putting food on a plate. The Colonel gave Ed a quick once-over, no doubt taking in things he hadn’t seen before, before focusing on Ed’s eyes.

“I figured you’d be hungry, so I saved you some dinner.”

“Thanks.”

Ed didn’t mind when people stared. People always stared. That didn’t mean he wasn’t grateful when people weren’t staring. Mustang – stupid, observant, brilliant Mustang – somehow knew that and was making a point of not looking at Ed’s less-than-perfect body.

In the back of Ed’s mind, he wondered if the Colonel still liked him after seeing what he usually kept hidden. In the middle of his mind, he sorted through different books that might help him figure out what Greeling’s skin was made of. In the forefront of his mind, he was just hungry.

Mustang’s food smelled great, and Ed didn’t waste time with greetings as he roughly pulled a chair out from the table’s edge and began eating. After a minute or two Russell cleared his throat. Ed looked up, though he didn’t stop eating.

“Is that why they call you… you know, Fullmetal?”

“Guess so.”

“So you really took out a chimera?”

“Apparently.”

“And you’re a real State Alchemist?”

“Looks like it.”

Fletcher and Russell appeared equally disgruntled by Ed’s flippant answers, but it had been a long day and Ed wasn’t really in the mood to go over his life story.

“Show us your watch.”

It was Fletcher who challenged Ed’s claims, unwilling to accept that the person “challenging” his precious brother was really someone so famous, and Ed rolled his eyes as he finished his food.

“Listen up ‘cause I’m only going to say this once. I don’t give a fuck whether you think I’m the Fullmetal Alchemist or some fake off the streets. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a couple of kids playing some stupid game for the affections of a crowd that you _can’t even comprehend_ , and I don’t want any part of it. You want to talk about me behind my back? Go for it. You want to fight me? Say so. But stop this chicken-shit act where you’re going to discredit me or whatever the fuck else you’re trying to do.  I have more important things to concentrate on than your bruised egos.”

Ed held Fletcher’s stare for as long as the younger blonde could handle it. Once Fletcher moved his gaze to the floor, Ed looked to Russell. The elder Tringham had an equally hard time staring Ed down, and seeing that neither of them wanted to rebut his claim, Ed stood from the table and put his dishes in the sink. He rinsed off the food residue before walking towards the living room and retrieving his books. Before he could make his way up the stairs, Russell found his voice.

“We can’t just take things for granted like you can. We’ve done so much – _lost_ so much – and for what? You to waltz in and render everything null? We have an apartment in our home town. We have jobs and food and friends, but it wasn’t always like that. Someone like you who’s only ever seen the streets from your golden-boy perch could never understand how we feel. So tell me how we’re supposed to sit back and accept that the Alchemist of the People – someone who’s supposed to care about everyone – is a bastard like you?”

Ed paused, hand on the railing as he looked first at Russell, then Fletcher, and finally Mustang. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to say “How indeed?” and walk away. But then Mustang would have to sit through their bitching, and it would be Mustang’s house that was full of stress and tenseness, and Mustang would be the one to suffer for Ed’s decisions. Ed sighed as he ran his hand through his still-wet hair, hating that he had told Mustang to house them in the first place.

“I have a brother named Alphonse. Our dad left us when we were little, and our mom died shortly after that. I lost my limbs when I was eleven, joined the military when I was twelve, and have been traveling the country killing chimeras ever since. I’ve lost friends and family. I’ve slept in the streets and watched people rip each other apart for stupid, _useless_ fucking things like money and power. I don’t have an apartment. I don’t always have food. Hell, I burned my childhood home down to make sure I wouldn’t have anywhere to run back to if things got too frightening.

“You’re right that I don’t know where you’re coming from, and you’re right that I don’t care. Maybe you had it rough as a kid, but you said it yourself that things are better now. So stop bitching about what’s happened to you and move on. Make it better. Stay the same. I don’t give a damn what you choose, but _choose_. Because believe it or not, neither Mustang nor I have time to listen to your petty fucking whining.” Ed turned his gaze from the white-as-a-sheet Tringham brothers to Mustang. “I’ll be in your study. Meet me whenever’s convenient.”

This time when Ed went upstairs, no one stopped him.

**(***Intertwined**)**

Russell hated that he knew Elric wasn’t lying. He knew that he had lost this round and any future rounds involving the older blonde. Elric – Edward? – did know pain. He knew what it was like to suffer and struggle and claw for survival, and he knew what it was like to protect someone else while he did it.

“Shit.”

“Do you really think—”

“Yeah.” Russell cut Fletcher off, wondering how he was ever going to be able to face the humiliation of apologizing for everything he had said and done for the past few months.

As if reading his thoughts, Roy said, “He doesn’t want an apology. He wants you to shape up. You’ve come a long way in this world, but you’re still young, and there’s a long way to go.”

Wise words from a wise man. Russell swallowed thickly before meeting Roy’s eyes.

“We’re never going to get together, are we?”

“No. We aren’t.”

The rejection stung, but not nearly as much as he had thought it would.

“I thought as much. I just needed to know.”

Russell wasn’t stupid. He had seen the signs even before Roy had picked Edward to live with him. There had been flirting and banter and just plain attention that Russell had never been anywhere near receiving. Seeing them interact in a household setting had done nothing more than hit that home. The way they talked to each other about things Russell didn’t understand; the way they not only kept up with each other but challenged one another; the way they stuck up for each other even when the other person was there to do it for themselves—

It was everything Russell wanted, and it was time to stop trying to steal that happiness away from someone else.

“C’mon, Fletch. Let’s go to bed.”

“But Russ…”

Russell shot Fletcher a look, letting him know that it was okay and that _he_ was okay, and Fletcher nodded.

“Alright. Goodnight, Mr. Mustang.”

“Night, Roy.”

“Goodnight.”

Russell made sure not to look at Roy as he stood or even when the Colonel returned his farewell. When he got to the library and changed into his pajamas, he took a moment to marvel at the weight off his shoulders. He had been battling with himself for weeks now over whether to fight for his crush or give in to the competition, and it felt good to have made a decision. Especially since Edward (as much as Russell hated to admit it) could best him in everything.

Academics, worldliness, military power, political sway, and (judging by the clear outline of his abs) brute strength were all things Russell had no hopes of standing against. Now he didn’t have to.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Russ? I know how much you liked him.”

For the first time in what felt like a long time, Russell didn’t have to think about his answer.

“I’m sure.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Edward was in Roy’s study, at Roy’s desk, in Roy’s chair, reading a book like he belonged there. His hair was tied back in a messy pony-tail, and he was still shirtless. Intelligent eyes zoomed across the page, and for once there were no notes being taken.

It was peaceful, and for a moment Roy’s mind was filled with images of Edward genuinely belonging there; living with Roy and feeling comfortable enough in _their_ home to take up as much or as little room as he wanted. Then the moment passed.

“Fullmetal?”

Edward looked up as Roy shut the door, but he didn’t move from Roy’s spot.

“I just wanted to finish the conversation we had earlier—about Core-sensing alchemy.”

Roy nodded and took the seat in front of his desk that Maes usually occupied.

“You asked how I came up with my theory, and the thing is that I didn’t mean to. I was thinking about Sheska’s chimera and what must have gone into it – shark, wolf, otter, and human –” Roy wanted to balk at how accurate Edward was at identifying chimera parts, “and I realized that her Core was likely intact. Then I thought about what we would need to track down the next chimera and it just came to me. We already know the Führer is behind the chimera attacks, all we need is something to link him to them.”

“He’d never get his hands dirty by physically creating a chimera.”

“No, but he’d visit wherever they’re actually making them. He’s not sloppy enough to trust others with an operation this big.”

“So you’re saying we’d hone in on the Führer? People he’s been in contact with recently and whether or not they come around our hot-spots?”

“Exactly. I’ve got to sort out a few more details first, but I want to implement this around your house, the houses of everyone in your unit, Maes’ house, and if there’s anywhere else you think is pertinent…”

“Can you do Central Command?”

Fullmetal’s grin told him that was well-within the realm of possibilities.

“Oh, yeah. And I can even piss off the Führer in the process.”

Roy’s lips twisted into a frown.

“Fullmetal, I think you should be doing your best to get off the Führer’s radar, not jump on it.”

“I’m not backing down, Mustang, but I promise to let you in on what I’m doing before I do it. Besides,” Ed leaned back, looking for all the world like the Führer was the one picking a fight out of his league, “he’ll twist it around to make himself look better and think it’s me who’s slipped up. He’s too damn proud to think he can be bested by me.”

Edward stared Roy down more seriously, and Roy wondered just how dangerous an opponent Fullmetal would be if he bothered to apply himself to politics.

“You’re a different story though. Any involvement you have would make him wary, so you’ve got make sure you’re somewhere else when it goes down. The press will hound you, his men will watch you, and you have to make sure they think you’re just as shocked as they are.”

“What are you planning?”

“I’ll let you know when I’m about to do it. For now I’ve got to focus on the formula to get it working. So far I’ve created three transmutation circles with everything we’ll need, and all that’s left is to combine them.”

Roy’s lips twitched at how easily Edward talked about creating and combining circles.

“Then while you work on that, I’ll focus our forces more heavily on the chimera situation. I’m sending Havoc to check out a few places with unreported, missing animals tomorrow, and Hawkeye is creating a geographic profile from the locations chimeras have cropped up thus far. The attacks were targeted, so the chimeras must have been transported somehow.”

Edward’s brows rose, making it obvious he hadn’t thought of that.

“If we find the car that transported them—”

“There’s no guarantee, but we’ll certainly be closer.”

Dark emotions flashed through Edward’s eyes, and Roy could guess what they were about: Sheska scared and alone in the back of a van; Edward unaware of the perpetrator parked yards away from him and his family; Nina and her dog.

Edward stood, apparently finished with the discussion, and Roy stood with him.

“Get some rest, Fullmetal.”

But instead of an offhanded “Whatever” or a casual “Fuck off, Mustang,” Edward turned back. He walked the few feet to where Roy was and took a deep breath before saying, “Go on a date with me.”

Roy blinked, sure he had misheard, and failed to answer in what Edward deemed an adequate amount of time.

“Or don’t. You know, never mind. Forget I asked.”

“No!” Edward looked just as shocked at Roy’s outburst as Roy felt, and Roy cleared his throat in an attempt to regain some composure. “I’d love to go on a date with you. I was just under the impression you’d rather jump out a window than do the same.”

Fullmetal pursed his lips and looked off to the side, attempting to cover his embarrassment with irritation.

“Yeah, well I figured I can’t really make an accurate judgment over whether or not I like you without going on a date or two, and…”

Edward muttered something inaudibly, and Roy raised his brows.

“And what?”

“And Maes said to give you a chance, alright? He knows you better than anyone else, and I figured if getting to know you were a bad idea, he’d warn me away. I was just—you said you like me and for the first time I actually believed it, so I wanted to figure out if it's something more than the partial bond making me, you know, feel things.” Edward glanced up at Roy, a heavy blush dusting his cheeks, and bared his teeth. “I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is ‘fuck you.’ We can’t all have gone out with half of Amestris, and I wanted to gather information before rushing in blind.”

Like it was a battlefield instead of a date. Like Roy’s reaction was to make fun of Edward for going to Maes instead of thinking over what gift would be extravagant enough to show Maes his appreciation. And if Roy’s voice sounded like audible sin when he spoke next, he couldn’t be blamed.

“No, I’m glad you asked him. I would be honored to take you on a date, Fullmetal.”

If possible, Ed’s blush darkened, and he fidgeted there for a full minute before uttering a harsh, “Try not to fuck it up.” and walking out the door.

As Roy stood alone in his study, he thought for the first time that he might be in love with Edward. Edward, who was more than beautiful.

He was strong and resilient. He was smart, knew his strengths, and refused to take any bullshit. In a world of politics, lies, and working with people who prayed for his downfall, Edward was nothing short of refreshing.

If Roy were out of line, he would say so. If he didn’t like something, he would say so. If he were excited or irritated or fed-up or proud, _he would say so_. Roy didn’t have to constantly be on the look-out because Edward would spell it out under no uncertain terms.

Edward had been through hell. Roy had read enough reports, heard enough stories, and now seen enough scars to know that for sure. His skin was torn, his hands were stained, his conscience was burdened, and Roy could understand all of that because he was the same way. Fullmetal was his equal. They could keep each other grounded and complement each other’s weaknesses. They could survive together, thrive together, and if not make the world a better place than at least make it a safer one.

Roy had never been in love before, so he couldn’t say for sure that it was what he currently felt, but it had to be close.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

“How are they getting along?”

“Better than expected. It looks like Mustang knows.”

Führer King Bradley raised his brows, mildly surprised the Colonel had finally caught on to the elder Elric’s Core type.

“Should we expect they’ll be bonding soon?”

“I don’t believe so. Elric is too stubborn to give in and Mustang is too chivalrous to force it.”

Solaris was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed under her chest drawing attention to her ample bosom. Lust was a fitting nickname for such a well-endowed woman, and she made sure to use her looks to her advantage. Fortunately for the Führer, he had no interest in petty things like _lust._ Not for humans anyways.

Blood, maybe.

Power, definitely.

“And Gerard?”

Solaris’ smile curled at the question. She knew that Gerard’s free-spirited rebellion was a rough spot for the Führer. Gerard was strong, smart, and terribly good at politics, even if he didn’t show it. While Gerard’s allegiance was always a fickle thing, it was also coveted, and for someone else to have won that over Bradley—

“They’re quite close.”

It was hard to say whether that was true or if Solaris just felt like pushing his buttons, but the Führer nodded nonetheless. Any connection between the two not described as “distant” was unpleasant.

“Break them apart.”

There was no how or why because Solaris was hardly better at sticking to orders than Gerard. She would complete her task, but she would go about it as she saw fit.

She nodded, her amused smile never leaving plump, perfect lips.

“Of course. Is there anything else you would like, _Führer_?”

The Führer King smiled and shook his head.

“You may go.”

Solaris left, and Bradley idly pondered Gerard’s reasoning behind going against him. Bradley was stronger and faster, and while his blade may not be able to slice Gerard, his reasonable influence could take away all the nice, pretty things Gerard loved.

Just what was it about Edward Elric that made people fall over themselves to take a bullet for him?

The Führer stilled, smaller details working themselves out in his mind even as the overarching plan formed.

_A bullet._

**(***Intertwined***)**

When Roy dropped a beautiful box on Maes’ desk, the information specialist was curious. When he stepped back, Maes noted the new suit, dry-cleaned petty-coat, haircut, and all-around increase in confidence. When he opened the box and found an expensive, utterly beautiful dress that little Elicia would look gorgeous in ( _more_ gorgeous in; she looked gorgeous in everything), he knew that Ed had taken his advice and agreed to go on a date with Roy.

Because Roy so rarely had good news to share – news that Maes’ occupation wouldn’t have given him anyways – Maes pretended not to know.

“What’s the special occasion? Are you planning on taking my beautiful Elicia on a photoshoot? Because we did that last weekend and she was simply spectacular! Everything she does is—”

“Fullmetal asked me on a date.”

Maes took a moment to admire the pride that Edward’s interest in Roy had inspired and another moment to feel thankful for the genuine happiness radiating from his best friend. Maes raised his brows and gave a low whistle, unable to bite back his smile.

“Really now?”

“You should have seen it. He was blushing the entire time, and I knew Fullmetal isn’t very good at being civil, but I never thought I would find cursing so _cute_.”

“He insulted you while asking you out and still got a yes?”

“Of course. I’m coming to find that the more embarrassed Edward gets, the more outlandish he becomes. He actually thought that I would mock him for going to you for advice.” Roy’s eyes sparked, letting Maes know just how funny the Colonel thought that was. “He was worried that I would say no, and he hates himself enough to deny himself the chance that I would say yes. You convinced him otherwise.”

There was no underlying meaning behind Roy’s words; no innuendos or codes. Only thankfulness. It was brash and real and rare enough for Maes to feel warmth blooming in his chest at the sight of it.

“Oh, I don’t know if I did that much. He’s the one who came to me to talk about you. I just nudged him in the right direction.”

“What did he say?”

Maes’ smile faded slightly, aware that the carefree part of their conversation was already drawing to a close.

“He thinks your attentions are fleeting and it’ll be a week of bliss and the rest of his life to regret it.”

Roy’s lips twisted into a grimace.

“How? I’ve been chasing him for years.”

“And introducing every other pretty face to your raging libido in the process. Politically, you look like an eligible bachelor. Romantically, you look like a flight risk.”

And the way Roy glanced to the left told Maes the Colonel (however reluctantly) agreed.

“How do I convince him otherwise?”

Maes’ brows rose as he hummed.

“I’m not sure.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the all-knowing master of love?”

Maes chuckled.

“If I could give you all the answers, I would. Unfortunately, the world’s done a lot of damage to Ed’s self-image and ability to trust, and you’ve done a lot of damage to his image of you. Mending that won’t be an easy job, especially with his patented unpredictability.”

“Fantastic.”

Sarcasm aside, Maes knew that Roy was glad to have the knowledge beforehand, even if it wasn’t sweet. Maes plastered a grin on his face and leaned forward more than a little conspiratorially.

“So, what do you have planned?”

**(***Intertwined***)**

As Ed looked at his wardrobe, he realized almost for the first time that he had nothing worthwhile to wear. The most impressive clothing he owned was the three-piece suit Winry had picked out for him, and the next-best thing was what he was currently wearing – black pants and a sleeveless shirt. There was nothing in-between. Nothing slightly dressy or mildly impressive. Nothing he wouldn’t wear to the gym.

Would wearing the suit make him look desperate? How dressed-up was too dressed-up, and what message would dressing in anything other than his normal outfit send?

Ed sighed as he shoved everything back into his duffel and stood, well-aware that he was in over his head. He made his way to the kitchen, glancing around even as he assured himself that Mustang was at work and the Tringhams were out to lunch. He dialed one of the two numbers he knew by heart and waited.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Al. How are you doing?”

“Brother! I’m—” Al paused, and Ed clearly heard Winry in the background saying ‘We have to tell him sometime.’ “I’m very, very well. _We_ are, actually. That is to say, both Winry and I are doing well. Extra well, that is. Because, well, we came home after the ball and there was this cat—”

“Are you two dating or what?”

Ed could practically hear Al’s blush. After a long, pregnant pause, Al muttered something unintelligible.

“What?”

“ _I said we’re bonded!_ Geez, Brother! If you’d just let me tell you the story about the cat and how it gave me the courage to ask Winry out, I would have gotten to it!”

Al’s words came out in an embarrassed rush, but Ed’s mind was still reeling from the quick progression of their (technically) still-new relationship.

“You’re already bonded?”

“It… We didn’t plan on bonding, it just sort of happened. I asked her out, and she kissed me, and I kissed her, and we felt so close, and her Core felt so close, and I reached out and she leaned in, and, well, here we are.”

“Here we are, huh?”

Ed’s bland repetition of Al’s explanation expressed just how humorous he found the situation.

“Brother! You know how long I’ve wanted this! And she wanted it, too, which I still think is crazy and amazing and wonderful and—You were the one that called me! You should be the one talking!”

Al hurried through the only sentence he knew would take the focus off of his bonding, and Ed grimaced as he realized he was about to face the same embarrassment he had bestowed upon his brother.

“Right. I need you not to jump to conclusions.”

“Of course not.”

“Because it’s not what it sounds like.”

“It usually isn’t.”

Ed closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Better to make a fool of himself in front of Al than Mustang.

“I asked Mustang on a date.”

Silence permeated the other end. More silence. And then:

“ _You_ asked _him_?”

Ed scratched the back of his neck as he shifted his weight to the left.

“Yeah. He was a fucking douche about it, too, but Maes said to give him a chance, so…”

“Maes is his best friend. Of course he wants you to give him a chance.”

Ed hesitated, glancing around one more time despite there being no way anyone had entered the house without him noticing.

“He knows about my Core.”

“He what? How?”

“I don’t know, but he knows. About the Core, the partial bond—everything. And he’s known for a while now—since before the ball. That’s why he didn’t touch me when we were dancing.”

Ed hadn’t actually confirmed that last part, but it made the most sense. Mustang only adhered to rules when he understood them, and he must have understood that giving Ed fuzzy feelings through physical interactions would only make their relationship worse.

“He hasn’t treated me any differently.”

That was the thing that Al needed to hear and Ed needed say. Mustang knew, and against all odds, didn’t seem to care.

“Do you like him?”

Ed frowned as anxiety curled in his stomach.

“I don’t know.”

“When’s the date?”

“Don’t know that, either. Sometime tonight.” Ed waited for the next question, but Al only hummed so he continued, “I don’t know what to wear.”

Al laughed. Ed scowled.

“Laugh it up. At least I didn’t take a decade to ask him.”

The comment had little to no effect on Al’s joviality.

“I’m not making fun of you, Brother. It’s nice to hear you worried about something that’s not life-threatening.”

“I’m not _worried_. I just don’t want the bastard to think I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“But you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Yeah, well he doesn’t need to know that.”

Al laughed again, and Ed smiled in spite of himself.

“Just wear whatever you usually wear. If he likes you for who you are, he’ll know that a night out with you isn’t expensive suits and newspaper shots.”

“Yeah, but…”

Ed stopped himself because he didn’t have anything to say. Somewhere inside – somewhere disturbingly close to the surface – Ed wanted to impress Mustang. He wanted the man to think he was handsome and capable and date-worthy. Golden eyes stared at the floor as he admitted for the first time both to himself and another that: “I don’t want to mess it up.”

Al was silent for a long time before his voice finally came through.

“Mustang would be lucky to have you. If he doesn’t realize that, he’s even dumber than I thought.”

“Yeah, well, he pretty good at being a dumbass so I wouldn’t put too much stock in him realizing something as obscure as that.”

Al chuckled.

“Get ready for your date, Brother. I’ll stay by the phone if you need me.”

And as much as Ed didn’t want to hang up, he equally knew that talking to Al was becoming a stall-tactic and he wasn’t one to stall for anything. He either went for the goal or accepted defeat; nothing in between.

“Thanks Al. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Brother. Good luck.”

Al hung up first, and Ed listened to the dial tone for a minute before hanging up, too.

He still had no idea what to wear.

**(***Intertwined***)**

When Roy came into the house, the first thing he saw was the Tringham brothers sitting quietly at the table, bags packed. Considering how loud they usually were, he opened his mouth to ask what was going on. That, however, was as far as he got as they made shushing noises and pointed towards the couch.

Edward was asleep.

He was curled up, metal arm pulled close to his chest and flesh arm pillowing under his head with what looked to be a wrinkled dress-shirt. His signature red cloak practically made a blanket, and Roy could tell by the lack of tension that this sleep was a long-time coming. He worked himself to the bone every day, worrying about everyone but himself, and a lull in that must have been too much to overcome.

Roy turned back to the Tringham brothers to see Russell smiling softly at him. Roy jabbed his thumb towards the door, asking if they were ready to head to Russell’s new dorm-room, and they nodded. Roy walked over to help them with their possessions—few in comparison to Roy; an overwhelming amount in comparison to Edward.

They were all extra quiet as they left the house, breathing a sigh of relief as they shut the door behind them. Roy piled their things into the trunk, some of it spilling over into the back seat, and they got in the car. It wasn’t until they were on the move that anyone spoke.

“What do you like about him?”

Roy glanced over, attempting to see what angle Russell was playing at. The blonde looked slightly pained but overall content, and there was no malice in his tone. He wasn’t trying to ward Roy away from Fullmetal.

Eventually, Roy responded: “His resilience.”

Roy expected something like ‘I’m resilient’ but Russell (maybe for the first time) surprised him.

“I’ve been an asshole, haven’t I?”

Roy looked at Russell again, longer this time.

“You didn’t know.”

“Bullshit. You’ve called him Fullmetal since the beginning. I just didn’t want to believe it. I just... I was jealous. He’s crazy-talented, ridiculously smart, handsome, and for him to have fame and a high rank on top of that? My saving grace was his abrasive personality, and even that seemed to interest you more than not.”

The admission was hard, and for the first time in a long time, Roy was reminded why he had compared Russell to Edward. He was honest, even when he didn’t want to be, and in those moments he was genuinely stunning.

“Fullmetal can bring out the worst in people.”

“He can bring out the best, too.” Russell stared at Roy as Roy stared at the road. “He brings out the best in you. In a way I never could. And I’m not saying that to get into your good graces. I’ve been talking about it with Fletch, and we agreed that dating you was probably better in theory. I wouldn’t have been able to stand up to the Führer like he did. I’d flounder at political parties, and taking your enemies as my own would scare me.”

Russell sounded like he hated himself for it, but he was right. Roy’s life was only sparkly from the outside, and that sparkle was what Russell craved.

“I could handle it, I know, but not well. You would get tired of me holding back your political career and I would grow resentful of you expecting so much of me. The pressure would break us apart.”

A short chuckle interrupted Russell’s speech, and Roy kept a close watch out of his peripheral vision.

“I probably sound crazy having thought so much about a relationship that will never happen, but you have to know that I’m good with you and Ed. I still want to support you, but not as an awkward fan-boy. I’m going to work hard over the next few years, and while I won’t be huge on the political front, I’ll be useful. Someone to stand as an equal.”

Roy didn’t doubt that was true.

“I look forward to it.”

Russell was clearly surprised by the honesty in Roy’s voice, and it took a long moment for the elder Tringham to nod. Roy pulled into the parking lot of the dorm a minute later. Russell got out first, and Fletcher followed shortly thereafter, pausing only long enough to say “It’s your loss.”

Roy didn’t doubt Fletcher thought that was true, too.

Roy helped them get their things up the stairs to their room and parted with a simple goodbye. Russell didn’t thank him again, and Roy liked to think the blonde had finally realized that Fullmetal was the only person who deserved thanks. Roy would have left them in the cold.

When he returned to his home, Edward was still asleep. In his sleep, he had decided the couch was large enough for him to sprawl out. One leg was curled awkwardly under him, the other halfway up the back of the couch. Both arms were up above his head, propped up by the arm of the couch.

His shirt had ridden up to show a toned stomach and beautifully carved abs. Blonde tufts of hair so light that Roy had missed them before led from his belly-button down to the waistband of his pants. Roy wondered if his pubic hairs would be long and untamed or trim – certainly not shaved.

Roy thought of how Edward’s cock would look when erect, standing strong against tan skin and blonde hair. It made him lick his lips—made him want to lick something else.

Roy turned and made his way into his room.

He moved easily into the shower, stripping his clothes as he went, and decided he could use a good jerk-off before their date. Steaming water warmed his back and his hand slid down his stomach to grip his already throbbing erection.

He thought about Edward’s stomach and how it would flex when Ed rode him. He thought about automail and the delicious change in texture it would provide, and his hand moved faster as he imagined Edward’s hand – either of them – in its place. How would Ed react with Roy’s cock pulsing in his hand? Roy didn’t remember the first time he had held another man’s penis, but it felt oddly different from his own.

And how long would Ed be able to keep a rhythm with Roy touching him in return? How long until golden eyes fluttered shut and—

“ _Edward_.” The name was a whisper on his lips, barely audible over running water, but it made him _feel_. Feel like Fullmetal was actually there. Feel like a kiss was a possibility. Feel like their date had already gone well and Edward would be waiting for him when he emerged from the shower.

Roy heard something: a small, almost inaudible _thump_ , and looked up into wide golden eyes.

Then the insanely pleasurable pressure in his stomach uncoiled and Roy came.

Hard.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed ran to the library. He knew Mustang would be following him within the next few moments; knew it even without the sharp “Fullmetal” following him down the hall. He didn’t think his heart had ever beat so hard or fast, and it didn’t show signs of slowing down any time soon.

Worse than that, he was hard. Ed tossed himself onto the bed and scooted back against the wall, pulling his legs up to his chest to hide the erection that panic hadn’t withered. Mustang barged in a second later. Ed had thought for a second that the man would knock, but considering the situation it only seemed fair.

Mustang’s hair was wet and un-brushed; shoved haphazardly out of his eyes. He was wearing a pair of black pants and a thin white T-shirt. He looked good. Ed refused to let his embarrassment get the best of him and met the dark gaze head-on. He started talking before Mustang could go off.

“I’m fuckin’ sorry, okay? I heard the shower going and I was just going to ask what I should wear through the door, but the door was open and I heard you say my name so I figured…”

“You figured I knew you were there and was telling you to come in.”

Mustang sighed as he ran a hand through his hair, somehow managing to look sexier. Ed’s traitorous prick twitched in response. God, it was like watching a porn-star after the porn ended. Or before it began.

“Look, Fullmetal, I’m sorry you saw that, but I’m not going to apologize for doing it. I like you. I like you romantically. I like you sexually. And I have needs that require satisfying. I’m sure you can sympathize with at least that much.”

But as much as Ed wanted to respond, he was still reeling from the information. He had known – _seen_ – that Mustang liked him, but to hear so blatantly that he was the object of Mustang’s fantasies?

“What about my automail?”

Mustang’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t miss a beat.

“They’re tantalizing. Exotic. I want to touch them. Be touched by them.”

“My scars?”

“They’re tempting; a reminder of what you’ve been through and how well you’ve handled it all. I’d like to hear about them some day.”

“You really think I’m attractive?”

Mustang’s expression twisted into something haughty and confused.

“Do you not?”

Ed maintained eye contact but refused to voice his answer. Mustang caught on anyway. He caught on, and he left the room. Ed’s insides churned, entirely unsure how to take the abrupt exit after such an honest confession. Mustang was gone long enough for Ed’s erection to wane and his legs to unbend. He scooted forward for his feet to touch the floor but was interrupted before he could stand by a re-emerging Mustang.

He walked over and handed Ed a piece of paper, staying close enough for Ed to smell the soap he had washed with. On the paper, in Mustang’s ever-elegant handwriting, were the words _Reasons to Date Fullmetal_ and _Reasons Not to Date Fullmetal_. There was a line down the middle.

In bullet-point form under _Reasons to Date Fullmetal_ was:

_Brilliant_

_Caring_

_Handsome_

_Strong_

_Resilient_

_Alchemist of the People_

_Capable_

_Talented_

_Challenging_

_Interesting_

_Gorgeous_

_Knowledgeable_

_Alchemic Prowess_

_High Rank_

_Quick-Witted_

_Conversational_

_Genius_

_Active_

_Can Protect Himself_

_Un-manipulatable_

_Stunning_

_Funny_

_Crass_

_Loyal_

_Dependable_

_Reliable_

 

In bullet-point for under _Reasons Not to Date Fullmetal_ was:

_No Filter_

_Additional Enemies_

_Political Landmine_

_Irritating_

_No Tact_

_Distracting_

_Naïve_

_Overly Trusting_

 

And that was it.

Ed read over it again and then one more time. There were three separate mentions of Ed’s physical appearance, and it made heat rush to Ed’s chest.

“I started that list two years ago, back when I was first trying to figure out if you were worth the effort. I’ve added to it as time went by.”

After what felt like endless minutes, Ed gave one, decisive nod.

“You seriously like me then. Genuinely.”

He had said it more himself, but Mustang nodded.

“Yes, Fullmetal. I really, genuinely like you. Very much.”

Mustang sounded exasperated, but underneath that was something deeper; something Ed recognized on instinct. Fear.

Mustang was afraid Ed would turn away from him.

Mustang had been caught masturbating to the thought of him; had openly shared his thoughts about Ed’s body; had come clean about a secret list of contemplations, and now it was up to Ed. Mustang, in laying everything on the table, had made himself vulnerable.

“What should I wear on our date?”

**(***Intertwined***)**

As it turned out, Ed had been as far off the mark as he could have gotten. Contrary to what the blonde had assumed, date-attire was basketball shorts and his sleeveless shirt. Mustang had worn khaki shorts and a dark blue V-neck. He said that Ed should wear tennis shoes, but his boots were the only shoes he owned so that suggestion was promptly ignored.

While Ed was sure they weren’t going to an upscale restaurant dressed as they were, he was surprised when they exited the city limits.

“Where are we going, Mustang?”

But the Colonel just smiled, and Ed rolled his eyes. He hated surprises.

Eventually, they came to a stop. It appeared to be the middle of nowhere, at the bottom of either a very large hill or a very small mountain. Part of it just looked like a cliff-face. Mustang opened the trunk to remove a small backpack and, after securing it, said “You ready?”

Ed shrugged.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

And then they started up the side of the mountain. Ed expected there to be some sort of tourist attraction along the way, but after half an hour of fairly strenuous hiking, that assumption was tossed.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Why? The hike too much for you?”

Ed snorted.

“As if.”

“No need to put on a brave face. I can carry you if need be.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m heavier than I look, you know.”

“I know.”

Ed’s teeth gritted together as he realized that Mustang did, in fact, know. He had carried Ed from Maes’ place to his home.

“I can handle it.” It was actually nice, though he would never tell Mustang as much. “I just want to know where we’re headed.”

“Can’t we hike for hiking’s sake?”

Ed stared at Mustang’s back for a bit, watching sweat gather on the nape of the Colonel’s neck.

“What are you playing at?”

Mustang glanced back, frown twisting on his lips and amusement shining in his eyes.

“What makes you think I’ll tell you?”

Ed scoffed and turned his head to hide his grin.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was under the impression you were confessing everything today.”

“Not everything. Just enough. Someone has to keep you in line.”

Ed’s head snapped back towards Mustang fast enough to hurt, and Ed’s mind warred with itself over whether or not Mustang was joking.

“Like you could.”

Mustang hummed but didn’t respond, and Ed muttered “Arrogant bastard” under his breath.

“Arrogant bastard or not,” Mustang paused to climb a small rock-face, “I got you to agree to go out with me.”

“Because you were honest for once in your damn life not,” Ed paused to go up the same rock-face, “because you manipulated me.”

“Honesty can be a kind of manipulation, too, Fullmetal.”

There was a warning in Mustang’s voice, and Ed was quickly reminded of the man’s inherent dislike for Greeling.

“Why do you hate him so much?”

“Besides being the brother of the Führer and having no care for the value of a life?” Ed stayed silent, waiting for more, and Mustang said, “He’s competition for you.”

“You’re _jealous_?”

It was one of the most ridiculous things Ed had ever heard, but Mustang’s tense shrug said it was true.

“That’s a stupid reason to hate someone.”

“I don’t hate him, I just— Can we not talk about this right now?”

Mustang was clearly trying not to start a fight with Ed, and Ed let it slide. For the moment, anyhow.

Silence filled the air between them, and Ed eventually broke it with a simple, “I’m going to piss off the Führer tomorrow.”

Mustang turned towards Ed incredulously, but when Ed didn’t explicate, he kept moving.

“How?”

The word was too casual. Mustang was on edge, and Ed shrugged even though the Colonel couldn’t see him.

“You’ll see. I worked out the alchemy to cover Central Command – specifically his office – so that we can see his comings and goings. I’ll show you how to activate it later tonight.”

“And you can’t do it discreetly?”

“I can.”

They came to a clearing at the top of the hill-mountain, and Mustang turned to Ed.

“I know you said you want to do something ostentatious so that the Führer thinks you’ve slipped up, but if you can do it inconspicuously, why take the risk?”

“Because he fucked with my family, and I’m not backing down.”

Realization lit coal-black eyes, and Ed moved further into the clearing.

“I’ll be sure to stay out of the way.” Mustang was beside him now, walking towards the edge of the clearing. “How will I know when you’re finished?”

Ed’s lips stretched in a roguish grin.

“You’ll know.”

Surprisingly, Mustang left it at that. Or maybe Ed just couldn’t hear him over the shock of the sight in front of him.

Central, all of it, sprawled across the land. He could see the train station and the road. He could see the academy and Central Command. If he squinted, he could even make out Maes’ and Mustang’s houses. It was beautiful.

“I come up here to remind myself what I’m fighting for.”

And Ed could see why. Here, he could see not only familiar buildings but people. Friends being made, obstacles being overcome, life being lived. People to protect.

A large portion of his life had happened in this city, and a large number of people he cared for depended on the city’s safety. In some strange sense, it was home. More than any one building or room, the entire city was his home. The gym where he trained. The park where he played with Nina. The library where he spent many-a-night reading and researching.

Ed turned away from the scene when he heard a quiet _shutter_. He looked back to see Mustang sitting cross-legged, watching him. He had unloaded his backpack to reveal two water bottles, one of Ed’s notebooks, and a camera, which explained the _shutter_.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking pictures. What’s it look like?”

_Shutter._

“Looks like you’re making an ass of yourself.” _Shutter._ “Why are you taking pictures of me?”

“Because you’re stunning.”

Ed flipped Mustang off.

_Shutter._

“And because I thought Alphonse would like to have a more recent photo of you. I know Maes would.”

Ed rolled his eyes and went for a water bottle. He didn’t really care if Mustang took pictures of him. The only reason there weren’t many pictures was because he was too lazy. Mustang adjusted the camera to take another, and Ed took it from his hands, replacing the camera with his water bottle.

_Shutter._

A skewed picture of the sky. Ed took his finger off the picture button as he adjusted it to face Mustang.

“Smile, Bastard.”

But Mustang just raised his perfect eyebrows and set the water bottle down, leaning back on his hands.

_Shutter._

Ed lowered the camera.

“What’s the matter? Afraid if you act too human, you’ll be disqualified for the position of Führer?”

Mustang’s lips twitched upwards, but otherwise there was no reaction.

_Shutter._

“C’mon, Mustang. I know you’ve spent your whole life trying to be a fuckin’ robot – and maybe that works for the press – but you’ve got to learn to kick back, too. Take care of yourself. You’ve got to draw a line between being a person and being a dog of the military somewhere.” Ed paused. “You do remember what it’s like to be a person, right?”

And then, for whatever reason, Mustang laughed. It was smooth and deep, and Ed took a minute to get a hold of himself.

_Shutter. Shutter. Shutter. Shutter._

Mustang reached up and grabbed the camera from Ed, curling his fingers around Ed’s automail arm as he did. He pulled Ed down, and Ed let him, ending up cross-legged in beside of the older man.

“You’re astounding, Fullmetal.”

Ed’s brows scrunched together.

“Why’s that?”

“You just are.”

Ed waited for further explanation, but none came.

“You’re a real weirdo. You know that, right?”

Mustang scoffed.

“Coming from you? That’s rich.” He put the camera down and reached for Ed’s notebook. “Can you go ahead and explain how to make Core energy visible?”

Ed, easily seduced by complicated alchemy, allowed the previous topic to drop as he opened his notebook to a blank page.

“Do you have a pencil?”

**(***Intertwined***)**

The hike had been a success. Dinner at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant Roy had frequented in his younger years had gone even better. Talk about Core-specific alchemy had turned to talk about how Edward had made their necklaces which had turned to talk about how Roy perceived the warmth of the necklace which had turned into talk about the perception and necessity of human emotion, and it only flourished from there.

Edward hadn’t even hesitated when Roy offered for them to take a walk before returning home. He was brilliant. More than brilliant, really. Roy paused as they passed a jewelry store, wondering for a moment of a moment what kind of engagement ring Edward would want—if he would even want one.

“What are you thinking about, Mustang?”

The question was mostly curious, but there was some apprehension there, too. Roy smirked.

“Don’t worry, Fullmetal. It’ll be a while yet before I start covering you in diamonds.”

“What?”

Ed’s tone was sharper than Roy’s playful jab had warranted, and obsidian eyes narrowed.

“I’m saying I don’t plan to shower you in expensive—”

“No. You said something about diamonds.”

“Covering you in them, yes. But it’s just an expression—”

Roy was cut off again as Edward turned on his heels and ran back towards the restaurant shouting, “That’s it! We have to get back!”

As Roy started to run, he cursed himself for at one point (certainly not that moment) liking Edward’s lack of predictability.

Despite Roy’s questions, Fullmetal didn’t say anything on the drive home, just scribbled in his notebook. When they pulled into Roy’s garage, Edward was out of the car faster than Roy could tell him to wait. Roy got out of the car slowly, wondering what had gone wrong. Fullmetal reappeared in the door to the garage a moment later. There was a wild, intelligent look in his eyes that only appeared when he was re-inventing alchemy, and Roy felt his knees get a little weaker at how attractive the blonde man was.

“I can’t explain why I need to do this because I’m not really sure yet myself, but know that it was a good date, and going out with you again wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And then he was gone again.

Mustang leaned against his car and let out a soundless, disbelieving chuckle.

It was a start.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Roy was doing his paperwork. He was really, genuinely doing his paperwork. Partially because Hawkeye was feeling extra strict after he had taken off for his date with Fullmetal and mostly because his research on chimeras was driving him up the wall. Books and books and books, and they could only give him a quarter of the information Edward could with only a fraction of the accuracy. It was infuriating.

Unfortunately, paperwork was equally if not more boring than his research was infuriating, and his attention was quickly waning. That did not, however, mean that he wanted an interruption badly enough to be okay with the blinding light suddenly emanating from every wall and window (judging from the screaming) in the entire building.

A second later, it was done. Roy opened his eyes with full intentions of running out and checking on his men, stopping dead when he saw the once-pristine walls of his office covered in words. Not just words. Names.

Roy and Hawkeye rushed out of his office to see every other wall in much the same condition.

“Sir?”

Roy ignored Havoc in favor of joining the chaos in the halls and making his way outside. If he were wrong it was a dangerous move, but he had a sneaking suspicion this was far from an attack. Not an attack Roy need be concerned about anyhow. After all, he knew some of the names in his office and the more he passed, the more he recognized. If he were right…

Roy craned his neck the moment he got outside, amazed at the number of names covering the walls. All were perfectly sized and spaced, and no part of the building was left unmarked. Most people were incredibly confused – shocked, in awe – but Roy could already see a glimmer of understanding making its way through the crowd. The people who were old enough and cared enough could see it.

The names of everyone lost to the Ishval Civil War.

And in front of the building, now a monument, was a grinning Fullmetal sitting cross-legged and unashamed. The grin as he admired his own work was just as stunning as the work itself, and when lesser soldiers finally made the connection between the Alchemist of the People and their newly decorated building, he was already standing up. Even with over a dozen guns pointed in his direction, the grin didn’t fade.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m coming.”

He didn’t spare Roy a glance as he was escorted away, but Roy couldn’t stop watching if he tried. It was probably for the best that Edward hadn’t let him in on the plan because he wasn’t sure he could fake this kind of surprise.

Roy didn’t even notice his unit had followed him or that the Intelligence department had evacuated until all signs of that famous red cloak were long gone.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Fullmetal.”

Maes hummed, eyes glued on the building.

“He’s certainly got a flare for the dramatics.”

“More like an inability not to be ostentatious.”

“You’re saying the Chief did all this?”

Breda eyed the building with respect.

“Looks like it.”

“Wow. I mean _wow_. This is gorgeous! I didn’t even know structural alchemy like this existed. And to think that Major Elric is behind it? I mean, I’ve heard he was a genius, but this level of alchemic precision would take a lifetime of commitment and dedication to arrange. I can’t even imagine the algorithm that went into this many names on this large a building.”

Fuery examined the building with an artistic eye that Roy was sure everyone in the vicinity could relate to.

Edward didn’t do things by halves, and this was no different. With a show of defiance this brazen and difficult to pull off, Bradley’s men would have a hard time wrapping their minds around the complicated alchemy being nothing more than a cover for even more complicated alchemy. It certainly helped that Fullmetal had invented the underlying alchemy, making it unidentifiable to others, and severely tampered with the structural alchemy cover.

Roy would be surprised if they figured out how to remove it within the next year, and that wasn’t taking into account their ability to find someone capable of performing the removal alchemy.

Alphonse, maybe.

“I doubt they’ll let us re-enter the building any time soon. You all have duties outside of Central Command, and you should get to them.”

Roy’s unit scattered without questioning what he knew or didn’t know while Roy continued to stare at the building. He would need to hold a press conference over what Fullmetal had done, but only after the Führer held his own press conference over the same thing. _That_ conference, of course, would come after Roy was called into questioning.

Any minute now, if Roy knew anything about the dynamics of Edward under the pressures of an authority figure.

Almost as if on cue, two of Bradley’s men emerged from the building with Mustang on their minds. They approached him with their shoulders squared and heads held high, but Roy could see their apprehension. They were terrified of the unknown alchemy Fullmetal had performed and more than worried about the Führer’s inability to control the wildcard. The thought that Roy was involved in this no doubt put them more on edge, but at least then they would have a more obvious objective. Roy’s political agenda was out in the open. Fullmetal’s though?

Fullmetal had no agenda.

At this point, Roy was willing to bet Bradley was banking on his involvement. The Colonel was going to be very happy to disappoint.

“Colonel Mustang? We’re going to need you to come with us.”

“Of course.”

Roy offered Maes a parting nod and followed the men into the building. He was taken straight to the interrogation room, though on the opposite end expected. Through a one-way mirror, he saw Fullmetal cuffed to a metal table, hands restrained as far from each other as possible. A soldier Roy didn’t recognize was in the room with the blonde, and he didn’t look pleased about it. Fullmetal… well, Fullmetal just looked bored.

“Why did you attack the building?”

“I didn’t attack shit. I just decorated a little.”

“Why did you _decorate_ the building?”

“Because it’s what should have been done in the first place.”

“Are you aware of the severity of your crimes? We’re currently considering this an act of terrorism.”

Fullmetal scoffed.

“Why? Did I massacre millions of innocent people for no goddamn reason? Oh, wait, no. That was you guys.”

The soldier didn’t hesitate to grab a hold of Edward’s hair and slam his face into the table.

“I’ve heard all about your smart-ass commentary, and I’m not amused. This isn’t a game for children!”

Edward gave a low chuckle, not bothering to try and get out of the soldier’s hold.

“If I’m such a kid, undoing my alchemy should be child’s play.”

The soldier brought up Edward’s head and slammed it back down again, and Roy allowed himself to flinch. This was a show because they thought he was in on it, but he honestly had no clue what Edward’s game plan was. He had nothing to hide.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? We’ve got the brightest alchemic minds in Central coming together to undo what you’ve done. I give your little decorations an hour before they’re nothing but an ugly memory.”

“Start the timer.”

The soldier let go of Edward’s head to walk to the other side of the room, staring unseeingly at Roy.

“I’ll never understand shits like you. There’s no reason for you to take the fall for this.”

“The fall?”

“For Colonel Mustang. We know he’s behind this.”

The laugh Ed released was genuine.

“I did what I wanted because it’s what I fucking wanted, and the bastard had nothing to do with it. I don’t take orders from him, or _Brad_ , or any-fucking-body else. You want to execute me for being a terrorist? Start gathering your armies.”

“You think you’re just going to walk out of here?”

“I give it three days before you unlock these cuffs and escort me out like the good dog you are.”

The door to Roy’s side of the interrogation room opened for the Führer to walk in. They both watched as the soldier attempted to yank Edward’s chair back only to be surprised by the hefty weight.

“Admirable, isn’t it? The way he isn’t willing to name any name but his own.”

Roy looked at Bradley and smiled, for once loving that he didn’t have any information to hide.

“If there are any other names to be named, I don’t know them.”

The Führer’s lips twitched downwards.

For once, Roy was being truthful, and for once, the truth didn’t help a single bit.

If Roy were behind this, they would have someone to target and slander. Someone whose reputation mattered. Edward didn’t give a damn about his reputation, and if the military cracked down on the Alchemist of the People for creating a monument for the people, there would be riots.

Roy couldn’t say whether or not Fullmetal had thought about that beforehand or if lady luck just favored him to such an extreme, but there would be no serious damage done to the blonde.

Not without serious political repercussions.

“I see. That’s fortunate.” Bradley plastered his smile back on. “I would hate to see you mixed in with the wrong crowd. And if you have no leads on the Fullmetal Alchemist’s intentions, I see no reason to keep you from your work. I’ll be sure to let you know when it’s safe to enter the building again.”

The Führer nodded in dismissal and continued to watch his interrogator try and fail to get anything other than flippant responses from Fullmetal. The blonde took a harsh punch before Roy could leave the room, and Roy worked hard to walk away.

Fullmetal had known what he was getting into, and he could handle himself.

The first day of Fullmetal’s detainment passed swiftly, hundreds of people coming to Central Command just to stare. It was the second day that things got interesting.

Word of the Ishval Civil War monument had spread like wildfire, and people were traveling from all across the globe to see it. Many people – soldiers, families, and Ishvalians – were coming to pay their respects. Crying and praying became common sights.

It was in passing by this gathering that Gerard found Roy and suggested they take a walk.

“You know, I’ve never seen Brad this frustrated before.” Gerard’s grin was almost too large. “He’s got every structural alchemist he can think of pouring over the building and not a damn one of them can figure out how Ed did it. Apparently there’s something new in the building material that wasn’t there before, and it’s keeping them from changing a single wall. If he wants this gone, he’ll have to tear down the whole fucking building. And even then, the names will probably sit legible in the wreckage.”

Roy looked away from Gerard to stare at the masses on Central Command’s front lawn.

“I doubt tearing it down is an option at this point. The people love it, and taking this monument away is a surefire way to make sure he isn’t re-elected. He isn’t willing to risk that much. Especially not for Fullmetal.”

Gerard’s round glasses slid down the bridge of his nose so he could better look at Roy.

“You telling me you didn’t have anything to do with this?”

“I did not.”

Gerard gave a low whistle.

“He doesn’t know the meaning of fear, does he?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Makes sense though. Brad’s gotten every interrogation specialist he could in with Ed – even went in there himself once – and tried every tactic short of breaking skin and bones to get him to talk.”

“And?”

“And so far all they’ve got is a string of ‘fuck you’ and some well-placed insults. He even told Brad to unlock his cuffs so he could give them something to _really_ arrest him for.”

Something in Gerard’s smile changed as he talked about Fullmetal’s antics, and Roy hated that he knew where the other man was coming from.

“I take it they didn’t unlock him?”

“Course not. But that isn’t really what I came to tell you. They aren’t breaking bones or slicing skin, but that doesn’t mean he’s nice and comfy. Make sure you’ve got a medic or two ready when they release him.”

Roy nodded, already having assumed as much but appreciating the extra information anyways.

They parted ways without another word.

The third day was when the protests started. The people on the lawn wouldn’t leave. They spilled into the streets and demanded Fullmetal’s release. Their chants could be heard across town.

Every newspaper was filled with speculation on the building, and every one of them held commentary from the people about how Edward had only done what should have been done previously. The people wanted Fullmetal free, and the only thing the Führer’s press conferences over the matter were doing was making his team seem incompetent. If they couldn’t figure out the ploys of an eighteen-year-old boy, they shouldn’t be in charge in the first place.

As far as the civilians were concerned, the monument was just that, and everything else was the work of shameful government workers trying to shine a bad light on something they couldn’t take credit for.

At 9:33 PM on the third day, Edward walked out of Central Command’s front doors with Bradley at his side. The press conference itself took over an hour – much of it calling Fullmetal’s work a welcome change and stating that there was nothing dangerous about the building – but Fullmetal only stayed around for the first four minutes.

A reporter asked if the names were a publicity stunt, and Fullmetal promptly told her that the names were lives needlessly lost to the greedy bowels of war and that she and anyone else who thought otherwise could go fuck themselves. Then he left, a roaring crowd thanking and congratulating him on his way.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed hated doctors. He hated people poking and prodding and telling him whether he was okay or not instead of asking. The doctor at Maes’ house wasn’t an exception.

“Major Elric, _please_ stay still! The wound on your chest is no laughing matter!”

“It’s old news.”

“It’s re-opened is what it is. I’ll be surprised if it doesn’t get infected.”

Ed snorted. He’d heard that one before.

“Why not check on Maes instead? His wound is fresher than mine.”

Maes smiled at the tactic and saved the doctor some exasperation by saying, “Because I’m a perfect patient who washes and replaces his bandages every day and avoids strenuous activity. _You_ are not. Now, I’m assuming you’re hungry. If you sit tight for the doctor, I’ll go get some of Gracia’s famously delicious soup.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Ed sat still and watched the doctor stitch him up and re-wrap his wounds, turning down the offered anesthesia with a practiced disinterest. If something did happen, he didn’t need both restricting bandages and a fuzzy head slowing his reaction times.

Maes came back with a bowl of something heavenly, and Ed was chastised when he reached for it.

“Major Elric! Be still!”

“Oh come on! I haven’t eaten any real food in three days!”

The doctor gave Ed a displeased look before tying off his bandages and saying, “We aren’t finished.” Then she stepped away and allowed Maes to hand him soup.

It tasted as good as it smelled. Ed didn’t even look up when Mustang entered the house.

“And here I thought you had no table manners _before_. What exactly did they feed you these past three days?”

Ed, who hated it when people talked with their mouths full, didn’t swallow before saying, “Chalk.” He didn’t have to look up to see the glance Maes and Mustang were sharing.

“Chalk?”

Ed drank down the broth before holding the bowl out to Maes with a silent request for more.

“Yeah. Fuckers said that until I was ready to draw the transmutation circle I used, it was all the food I deserved. And maybe it’s just because I’ve been hanging around great cooks lately, but chalk tastes like shit.”

The doctor was back by his side, a worried, exhausted look on her face.

“How much chalk did you ingest? That could very be dangerous for your—”

Ed waved his hand dismissively.

“It’s fine. I threw most of it up already. What we need to focus on is getting me more food and letting me set up safety parameters around all the houses that need it.”

Ed turned his attention to Mustang while Gracia came in with a new bowl of soup, already having predicted his monstrous appetite. The doctor stood up as he reached for the second bowl, well at the end of her patience.

“Major Elric! Your health is no laughing matter! What we need is to perform a tox-screen and to get you in bed until further notice. Whatever they forced you through isn’t—”

“They didn’t _force_ me through anything, Doc. I could have broken out of there at any time, and if I thought they were going to legitimately hurt me, that’s what I would have done. I don’t know how many times you’ve gotten into a fight, but right now they’re scrambling to cover their asses, and that’s the perfect time to set things in play, not go to bed.”

“You’re not at war.”

“He touches my family again, I will be.”

Ed watched the doctor until she couldn’t hold his stare anymore and then took the soup from Gracia.

“Thanks for this! It’s delicious!”

Gracia offered a smile that was too sad for Ed’s taste, so he turned back to the doctor.

“Can you leave for a bit?”

She looked torn, but at Maes’ nod, packed her things and evacuated the house. Ed turned his attention to the two men in front of him.

“I’ll need you guys to work out the specifics and be ready to gather people by tomorrow evening. The alchemy I performed on Central and Mustang’s place are different from what I’ll do everywhere else. The ones I’ve already done aren’t tied to anything, and all it takes to see the comings and goings will be the ability to perform alchemy and the right circle.”

“No one in my unit has a Core.”

“And I can’t perform alchemy.”

“Exactly. So I modified it to link people to the places specified. First I’ll need everyone that we trust in one spot. I can link everyone to the alchemy and then the alchemy to the places with the right string of circles, but it’s got the drawback of anyone who isn’t in the original circle setting it off. If we can hammer out this list and manage to get everyone we trust in one spot, that issue will be null. We’ll all be alerted any time an uninvited person steps into a corresponding uninvited area: e.g., our homes. It means there will be no inviting strangers over until this is finished, but it also means we’ll be safer. And if you guys can work out some kind of communications technique so we all know when it’s a false-alarm, that would pretty much set us.”

“Ed that’s brilliant.”

“It’s not brilliant until it’s done. We’ve got to figure out a place we can meet and how big our circle of trust and then _their_ circles of trust extend. So you, your unit, Maes and his family, Greeling and his gang—”

“Gerard? You really think you can trust him with this?”

“I trust my gut, and it says he hates Brad more than he would like betraying us.”

Mustang didn’t look happy about it, but he wasn’t making the decision, so it didn’t really matter.

“Is there anyone else you guys want in on this?”

“What about Alphonse?”

“He’s in Resembool, and with any luck he’ll stay there until this is done-with.”

“Alex and Olivier would be good additions.”

“The Armstrongs?”

Maes nodded.

“They’re trustworthy, and I’m sure they’re going to get pulled into this eventually.”

“That’s fine. All I really need is a time and place to do it. I’ve got a meeting with the Führer in the morning, but I doubt that’ll take long. Any time after ten should be good, though I’d rather do it sooner than later.”

Mustang held up a hand, exasperation clear beneath his mask.

“You have a meeting with the Führer?”

“Yeah. He said to meet him tomorrow at nine right before letting me go. He was real fucking cocky about it, too.”

“Fullmetal, that should have been the first thing you told us. A meeting with Führer King Bradley is nothing to scoff at, especially with the stunt you just pulled.”

“It’s not like I can skip the meeting, and it isn’t like you can prep me for it since we’ve got no clue what he wants. So what’s it matter if you know or not?”

“This isn’t a joke, Fullmetal. You’ve seen how he retaliates, and you humiliated him in public.”

“Yeah. In public. If he comes after me, fingers point straight to him.”

“You think he hasn’t taken out public enemies before? Making sure no one suspects him of foul play is his specialty.”

“Fuck him and his specialties.”

“Damn it Fullmetal—”

Maes put a hand on Mustang’s shoulder to calm him.

“What’s done is done, and there’s nothing we can do about it now. Why don’t we get to work on putting that list together and finding an inconspicuous meeting place? Ed needs his rest, and he can tell us all about the meeting tomorrow after it ends.” He turned to face Ed, a pleading smile on his face. “I know you hate him, but please do your best to be respectful. Everything will go smoother if the Führer thinks you’re wary of retaliation.”

“I’m not a great liar.”

“Then don’t lie.” Maes’ voice was gentle, but the underlying worry was clear. “Just don’t tell the truth.”

Ed shrugged and stood to get a third bowl of soup.

“I’ll try.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Jean knew he wasn’t the best at, well, anything really. He didn’t have any specialties, and he wasn’t particularly smart. It was hard work, determination, and the luck of meeting Roy Mustang early on that got him where he was today.

If he wanted to go farther – and he did – then he needed to keep that hard work and determination flowing towards Mustang’s goals. It was only through him that Jean would ever be able to make a positive impact on the world – something that he desperately craved.

That was why he had to be as strong and arrogant as the boss man, even when he didn’t feel it.

“I’m going to need a copy of those files. Führer’s orders.”

Jean glanced around the hallway and tightened his grip on the manila folder.

“Sorry, Dosmann. I’ve got strict orders to take this straight to Colonel Mustang.”

“What was that, _Second Lieutenant Havoc_? Because it sounded like you’re denying an order from your superior.”

“Dosmann—”

“That’s Captain Dosmann to you, Second Lieutenant. And if the Colonel has a problem with sharing his information, he can take it up with the Führer.”

Dosmann reached for the file, and Jean put it behind his back.

“I apologize, Captain Dosmann, but my orders were clear. I have no way of knowing that those orders belong to the Führer, and until I get proof otherwise, it’s my duty to get these straight to the Colonel.”

Dosmann’s responding smile was a ghastly thing.

“Then as an order from your Captain. Hand over the folder.”

Jean swallowed thickly, mind racing over ways to get out of this without giving up intel.

Before he could think of anything, the file was snatched from his hands.

“I’ll never understand why everybody gets so uptight about some stupid papers.”

“Fullmetal?”

“If it isn’t the famous Fullmetal Alchemist.” Dosmann chuckled. “I like what you did to the building.”

“Most people do.”

The blonde flipped carelessly through the papers, barely scanning each page before going onto the next.

“The Second Lieutenant was just about to hand over those files.”

“You know, I really don’t think he was.” Fullmetal closed the file and gave Dosmann a look that very clearly stated he thought the Captain was an idiot. “In fact, if I had to wager a guess, I’d say he was just about to tell you to go fuck yourself.”

Fullmetal actually managed to look bored as he stuffed the papers back into the envelope and handed them back to Jean.

“Fullmetal—”

“That’s Major Elric to you, _Captain_. Now do me a favor and give me a really good reason why you aren’t standing at attention right now.”

Jean recognized the panic in Dosmann’s body language as the man snapped to attention.

“I apologize, Major Elric. I was unaware you preferred these formalities.”

“I don’t. You’re just pissing me off.”

“M-major Elric, it’s by order of the Führer that I—”

“Oh, I know. Luckily, I’ve got a meeting with Brad in about,” Fullmetal casually pulled out his State Alchemist’s pocket watch and flipped it open, “five minutes ago. I’ll be sure to take note of any grievances he has with my decisions.”

Fullmetal turned to Jean, whose respect for the blonde skyrocketed when he saw the mirth dancing in golden eyes.

“You should get going. And Havoc?”

“Yes sir?”

“Tell Mustang to burn those papers after reading them.”

“ _Major Elric!”_

“Yes sir!”

Jean walked right past Dosmann without the man attempting to stop him, and he didn’t have to look back to know Fullmetal was keeping the Captain in place until he was out of sight.

When he finally reached the office, he nearly collapsed into his seat. He had heard Fullmetal was intimidating – seen him go off on Mustang and the Führer both – but having him do it right next to Jean, _for_ Jean, was a different matter entirely. It gave him goosebumps.

“Are you alright, Havoc?”

Falman sounded concerned, and Jean wondered if he looked as out of sorts as he felt.

“Did you run into any issues?”

Mustang was out of his office, though whether he left because Jean arrived or was already out and about, he wasn’t sure.

“Boss man! I got the information you wanted on the missing animals and persons in the areas surrounding Central, but the Führer sent Dosmann to intercept me.”

Dark eyes narrowed and focused in on the envelope.

“Did he see them?”

“That’s just it! He had me in a corner when Fullmetal came around and shut him down like a bad date. He basically told Dosmann to shove it and then made him stand at attention until I could get out of there. It was awesome!”

Finally in the safe zone, Jean allowed his relief to show and sucked in a lung full of nicotine.

“He’s something else. Oh, and he looked through the files – I didn’t figure you’d mind since it’s him – and said to tell you to burn them after reading. I don’t know if he saw something more incriminating than a bunch of random, missing animals or if he just wanted to piss off Dosmann and the Führer, but I told him I’d tell you.”

Mustang’s lips pursed in a way that said Fullmetal had done something he probably shouldn’t have, and then the Colonel took the envelope.

“Good job, Havoc. Falman, go ahead and read over these and then get them to me as soon as you’re done. If Fullmetal said to burn them, they should probably be burned.”

Mustang gave the room one more glance before disappearing into his office, and Jean wondered just how much of a toll this whole Fullmetal-Führer dispute was taking on him. Once the door to Mustang’s office had been shut for a full five minutes, Fuery spun around in his chair to look at Jean.

“Was he really that cool?”

“Cooler. You’d never know he’s eighteen by the way he holds himself. I swear, if Dosmann hadn’t listened when he said to back down, he probably would’ve punched him.”

“He’d have done more than punch him, if the rumors are to be believed. I hear the Chief’s nothing short of brutal in battle.”

Breda chimed in with a grin, happy to have something to talk about other than work. The boss man had always been focused, but his need for work to be done quickly and discreetly had been on high ever since the Hughes family was attacked. He was even more attentive to his paperwork, if only just so.

“Man, I’m glad I got the info back safe-and-sound, but I would’ve paid to see Dosmann get his face punched in. I mean, even one hit would have been enough.”

Jean slouched back in his chair, content with imagining the douche getting his ass kicked.

“What do you think it’s like being Fullmetal?” Jean glanced at Fuery, who blushed and quickly expanded: “I don’t mean like the rank and automail or anything. Just what it would be like to have the courage to say whatever you think, whenever you think it.”

“I’m pretty sure most people who do that are considered stupid and reckless.”

“Well then to have the courage to say it and be able to back it up.”

Falman smiled as he flipped a page of the files he had been handed and said, “I’m fairly certain that’s still referred to as brashness, at best. I’d much rather have a plan and be confident in obtaining the desired results than fall prey to the pull of instant gratification.”

Fuery deflated a little.

“It’d still be pretty cool though. Maybe just for a day.”

“A day? I’d settle for an hour. Just enough time to find a gorgeous woman, show off my pocket watch, and take her to bed.”

Jean sighed at the thought of having Fullmetal’s reputation at his disposal. The man probably had dates throwing themselves at him twenty-four-seven, just like Mustang.

The main doors opened again for Fullmetal himself to walk through, and Jean straightened up, hoping to look less like a guilty-gossip than he felt.

“Colonel Bastard in his office?”

“The boss man? Yeah.”

Fullmetal strode by them, paused at Mustang’s office door, and promptly kicked it in.

Mustang looked less than amused.

“Was that really necessary, Fullmetal?”

“Probably not, but it felt good.”

“At least close it behind you.”

“I actually think it’s better if you came out here. Your unit’s going to need to hear this anyhow.”

Fullmetal sounded displeased, to put it lightly. Mustang stilled behind his desk. It took him half a minute to come out and stare Fullmetal down.

“What did the Führer say?”

“He’s promoting me. Three days from now I’ll be Lieutenant Colonel Elric, and he wants to hold a ceremony so all of my closest friends and family can see it happen. That’s you, your unit, the Armstrongs, the Hughes, Greeling, Al, Winry—he’s even got Granny Pinako on the list. Says I don’t have to worry about getting them down here because he’ll make sure they’re escorted himself. I need you to get to them before he does.”

Whatever plan Mustang had in motion reformed around the new information and he only took a minute and a half to say “I’ll send Hawkeye to fetch them tonight.”

“I want Havoc to go.”

Mustang’s brows rose, and he looked to Jean, but Jean was too busy staring at Fullmetal to take much notice.

“Me?”

“I know everyone in this unit is trustworthy and capable, but there’s a difference in knowing and seeing. If you’re willing to try and squirm out of the Führer’s orders for some papers, I imagine you’ll do a lot more to protect my brother.” Golden eyes refocused on Mustang. “I’ll do whatever you want—help out in whatever ways I can. Just send Havoc to keep my family safe.” He hesitated. “Bringing everyone I care about under one roof is a bad fucking sign, and I want to be prepared. Your kind of prepared.”

Mustang took his time looking over Fullmetal before tossing a determined glance at Jean.

“I want you on the next train out of here. Fullmetal will call and make sure they’re waiting at the station when you arrive. Everyone else get your ears to the walls. I want to know when, where, and how this promotion is going down, and I want it ten minutes ago.”

Fullmetal gave Jean a thankful nod as he followed Mustang back into the office, and Jean let himself enjoy the sense of pride welling in his chest while it lasted.

If there was anything he had learned from watching Mustang pine over Fullmetal, it was that the blonde’s favor was hard to obtain. Now he just had to make sure not to disappoint.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed was one hundred percent sure that every word coming out of Mustang’s mouth was complete and utter bullshit.

“You seriously think me getting in uniform for this stupid shindig will be enough to placate him?”

“I think it will show him that you’re aware of how much power he holds over the lives of your loved ones and that you aren’t asking for an all-out war.”

“I’m not afraid of him.”

“You _are_ afraid of him! You’re afraid of what he can do to your family and terrified you won’t be able to stop him. It doesn’t make you a coward. It makes you _aware_.”

Ed crossed his arms and turned away.

“This is political bullshit.”

“Yes. It is. Which is exactly why you came to me. If you want to have a chance of taking down the Führer while keeping everyone intact, the only option is exposing his connections to the chimera attacks. That means playing your part and keeping your head down until the time is right.”

Ed clenched his fists until it felt like his flesh palm would bleed.

“And how the hell am I supposed to do that? How can I bare my neck to the shithead who tried to have Maes and Gracia and Elicia killed?”

“You bare your neck with the knowledge that you’re going to take him down later. Having the upper hand is only useful if you can keep it, and right now you’re practically giving it away.”

Mustang sounded like he was spelling something simple out to an especially slow child, and Ed hated that he didn’t have a rebuttal. As much as physical harm was on the horizon, this battle was political and Ed sucked at all things politics. He had swallowed his pride when he asked Mustang what to do. Now he just needed to keep it down and follow orders.

“If I do what you say, will they be safe?”

Mustang stared at Ed for a long time, something just short of pity painting his face.

“I don’t know.”

Ed sighed and allowed himself to take one of the seats in front of Mustang’s desk.

“He doesn’t think you had any involvement with the building, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try and take it out on you and your men, too. Whatever happens, I’ll do my best to help protect them.”

“Don’t worry about them. They can take care of themselves.”

“Everybody can take care of themselves up until they can’t. I’m just saying you’ve got my help if you need it.” Ed leaned back in his chair, a heavy, helpless feeling sitting deep in his chest. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Mustang tossed Ed a skeptical look.

“I promise. No questioning your orders or fighting back. I’m… I’m thankful for your help, and I’m not stupid enough to try and do this on my own when you’ve got your hand offered right beside of me. This is your area, not mine.”

Mustang, if possible, looked even more displeased than before.

“You’ve got to know I don’t like seeing you like this, Fullmetal.”

“Don’t you? I thought me following orders was what you dream of at night.”

“Not in this context, I don’t.”

Ed raised his brows at the possible sexual innuendo while Mustang shuffled the papers around on his desk.

“I’ll find out what I can about the ceremony and relay it to you as soon as possible. For now, the most useful thing you can do is to go and gather everyone you’re going to want in on your alchemic security system. Havoc should be back with your family by tonight, and we’ll meet at Gerard’s house tomorrow, if he’ll allow it. It’s the largest amount of space with the least likelihood of being monitored by the Führer.”

“Right. I’ll go ask.”

Ed rose from his seat, hesitated, and made for the door before hesitating again.

“Everything I’ll be doing tonight involves Core alchemy. Because of my connection to the Gate, sometimes Core alchemy can go a little… screwy.”

“Screwy?”

“Just know that this is necessary, and if something goes wrong, keep whatever judgments you have to yourself.”

Ed didn’t wait to see what Mustang had to say. He just left.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

When Ed got to Greeling’s house, he went straight to work. Core alchemy took a lot out of him – even making the necklaces left him with a deep-set exhaustion for a few days – and this was going to be large-scale. That meant he needed all the help he could get, which meant he wanted everything drawn out in front of him. There would be twenty-one people in the room, not including himself, and that meant he would be doing seven times the amount of Core alchemy he had attempted before.

It was guaranteed to end badly, but not without first succeeding in what he set out to do.

Greeling watched him interestedly on the sidelines, every now and again moving out of the way when Ed needed to widen the circle. Martel, Roa, and Dolcetto were somewhere in the house, he was sure, but they weren’t where he could see them.

Within fifteen minutes of working, everything faded into the background. His world consisted only of stone, chalk, and alchemy. He had no idea how long it took to draw out the circle – especially since it was large enough to hold twenty-two people – but when he finished the room was full.

Greeling was still on his perch, but Martel, Roa, and Dolcetto were around him. Namae stood behind Elaine’s chair, and next to them were the Armstrongs. On the other side of the room were Mustang and his unit, the Hughes family, and most importantly, Al, Winry, and Granny Pinako.

Seeing his attention was back within the realms of reality, Granny Pinako stepped forward to the edge of the circle.

“How’s my best customer doing?”

Ed’s grin was so wide that it hurt as he moved to hug the short woman.

“Granny!”

“What’s all this? I finally get to see you again, and it’s for a promotion in the military? I thought you had to be obedient for those kind of things.”

“Who’s to say I haven’t been following orders?”

Granny Pinako laughed.

“The last eighteen years of your life, that’s who. I guarantee the only thing that’s changed these past few years is your height, and even that isn’t by much.”

Ed’s grin turned sardonic.

“At least I’m not shrinking, unlike some people I know.” Ed released his grip on Granny Pinako and turned to Al and Winry. “Sorry for dragging you guys out here on such short notice. It’s—”

“Don’t you go apologizing! It’s that stupid Führer’s fault! I mean, you can be pretty dumb sometimes so I’m sure you did something to piss him off, but it’s him who doesn’t have the guts to face you one-on-one.”

Winry crossed her arms in a huff, and Ed laughed again.

“Agreed.”

With one more glance around the room, well-aware that none of his relationships would be the same after this, Ed clapped his hands.

“I need everyone to line up on the rim of the outer circle.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Gerard knew that Ed was brilliant. That didn’t make his attention to detail or the fact that he had _created_ this overly-complex circle any less impressive. The fact that it was exactly wide enough for all twenty-one of them to stand shoulder-to-shoulder without touching only heightened the grandeur.

“Alright. The way this works is that I’m going to connect my Core to all of you, basically tying my Core to a sliver of your essence. I’m not taking anything from you, only making it so your essence is recognized by my Core. From there, I’ll funnel that recognition into this circle and create fifteen security pendants. Each of you should put one in your house. That’ll tell you whenever someone in this circle enters and make you feel really frickin awkward when someone outside the circle enters. You’ll only be connected to the one you place, so if you want to be connected to more than one, you need to be there to help place it.

“All you really need to do to activate it will be place the pendant in the center of the building you want to monitor. Maes and Mustang are working out a better system to communicate in case someone we don’t want breaches the parameters specified. The main thing to keep in mind is that this isn’t for fun. Brad is planning something, and anyone who enters your area that you didn’t invite is a threat.” Ed paused and looked at father-figure Hughes. “As soon as my hands hit the floor, cover Elicia’s eyes.”

Gerard raised his brows, but as confused as everyone was, father-figure Hughes only nodded.

Ed took a deep breath, positioned himself in the middle of the circle, and touched his chest. When his hand pulled away, a sliver of golden light came out with it. Like sunshine, only more magnificent. Everything in Gerard begged to touch it or be touched by it one, but he forced himself still.

Ed walked towards him, the golden light moving fluidly around the circle. Gerard thought for a moment that he would be first, but of course Ed started with Alphonse, who was directly to Gerard’s right. The elder blonde touched his brother’s chest, bringing out a warm brown light as he pulled back. Alphonse sighed, face relaxing in contented pleasure, and the brown light mingled with gold.

Ed made his way around the circle, touching everyone just as gently as he had Alphonse and pulling more and more colors into the air. Armstrong’s color was pink, and his sister’s was uniform blue. Father-figure Hughes had a dark, forest green light while his wife’s was more of a seafoam. Their daughter’s was teal. Hawkeye’s light was a gorgeous cerulean. Mustang’s was a rich shade of violet.

Namae’s light was a sweet crimson. His wheelchair girl’s was white. Roa’s light was black, while Martel’s was lilac. Dolcetto had a sunset orange light, and as stunning as the circle of lights and colors was, all Gerard could really focus on was the anticipation of being touched next. Maybe Ed would spend a moment longer on him since he was the last to go.

Ed’s fingers hovered over Gerard’s chest for a moment as they made eye-contact, and then they touched.

Everything Gerard had ever known about being contented with material items melted away as he felt the connection of another life caressing his own. Seconds passed like minutes, and he wanted nothing more than to stay like that forever. Lost in that beautiful, perfect serenity where nothing could go wrong and no one could harm them. For those moments, there was no void to fill or persona to upkeep. He was simply Gerard Homunculi, wholly and miraculously connected to Edward Elric.

Then a silver light more entrancing than all the rest left his chest, and Gerard found himself in a pleasurable haze.

“Ready?”

Gerard took a moment to blink and remember that father-figure Hughes was supposed to cover his baby girl’s eyes, then Ed touched the circle and reality fractured. The room went black and the ghost of a too-large Gate stood behind Ed. When it took full form, they weren’t in Gerard’s entryway anymore, but a stark basement.

Ed was gone, but he also wasn’t. He was just younger. Next to him was a young Alphonse, and in front of them was a circle and pile of ingredients.

“ _This is it.”_

Little Ed grinned at little Alphonse, and they both pressed their hands to the circle. Gerard heard real Alphonse say “Oh no.”

The circle started to glow, little sparks of electricity hitting the materials in the center.

“ _Ed, something doesn’t feel right.”_

Then a large eye appeared in the middle of the circle, and black vines came out and attached themselves to little Alphonse’s arm. It broke apart like it wasn’t made of anything at all.

“ _Al! No!”_

That was when Gerard noticed that the vines were tiny hands, and they had a hold of little Ed’s leg, too.

“ _Brother! Ed! Help me! Help!”_

The hands were all over little Alphonse, breaking him apart, and little Ed was reaching desperately forward. Gerard tried to move – to help, to _anything_ – but he was frozen in place. Little Alphonse’s hand disintegrated before little Ed could touch it.

Then a bright light filled the room, and little Ed was missing a leg while little Alphonse was nothing but a pile of clothes.

“ _No! This wasn’t supposed to… He’s gone! No! What have I done?”_

Little Ed crawled towards the transmutation circle, bloody stump staining the floor beneath him.

“ _Somebody help me! Please Mom. Mom please!”_ He looked to the center of the circle, but whatever they had created couldn’t be called human. Its skeletal jaw cracked open while a bloody hand reached for the sky before dropping to the ground. It started to crawl towards little Ed.

“ _No! This… This is wrong! This isn’t! This isn’t what we wanted. Al—Alphonse! Alphonse Alphonse Alphonse Alphonse! This is all my fault! Alphonse no!”_

A suit of armor dropped beside of him, and little Ed pulled himself over.

“ _No, damn it. You won’t take him too. Give him back. He’s my brother!”_ Little Ed was drawing a small transmutation circle on the inside of the armor with his own blood. _“Take my leg! Take my arm! Take my heart! Anything! You can have it! You can have anything just give him back! He’s my little brother! He’s all I have left!”_

Then little Ed clapped his hands, and the last thing Gerard saw as the blue light overwhelmed the room was little Ed losing his arm, too.

The setting shifted to a large room with a lot of books. Ed was older now, sixteen maybe, and he was facing Gerard. At least, some form of Gerard. All that was clear was that they were about to fight, and it wasn’t just a spar. Fake Gerard was fully decked in his graphene-skin, and he looked ready to kill. Sixteen-year old Ed transmuted part of his automail arm into a lance.

“ _Let’s start.”_

“ _Let’s finish!”_

Sixteen-year-old Ed ran at Fake Gerard, and they proceeded to fight without pulling blows. Sixteen-year-old Ed was the one throwing most of the punches while Fake Gerard just leapt and dodged. Then sixteen-year-old Ed found his opening and clapped his hands before pressing a palm to Fake Gerard’s stomach. Fake Gerard was covered in a blue light. Sixteen-year-old Ed spun around to gain momentum and proceeded to spear Fake Gerard right through the heart.

He removed the lance, and Fake Gerard’s graphene-skin changed back to regular skin.

“ _Damn, kid. That was good.”_

The guilt on sixteen-year-old Ed’s face was immediate. Fake Gerard fell to his knees, and sixteen-year-old Ed was quick to follow.

“ _What about Al? Where is he?”_

“ _He’s back in the woods. I let him go.”_

Fake Gerard coughed up a hearty amount of blood.

“ _But I thought…”_

“ _We Homunculi, we’re born when an alchemist tries to recreate life. We are weakened when we’re close to the remains of whomever it was the alchemist tried to resurrect. That’s the homunculi’s weak point. That’s how we can be killed, understand? And not come back.”_

“ _But why… why are you telling me this?”_

“ _So you can beat them, Ed. They sealed me for so long. You can’t let them stay in control.”_

“ _They’re… like you?”_

“ _I’m greedy as hell. Always out for myself. She always said it would be the death of me.”_

Fake Gerard threw up too much blood for Gerard to be comfortable with.

Sixteen-year-old Ed apparently felt the same as his shaky voice practically pleaded _“Greed—”_

“ _Go cut them. I’m counting… on you… kid.”_

Fake Gerard writhed around like he was in pain before stopping, eyes bulged and body curled into a fetal position.

“ _Hey now. Greed, cut it out!”_ Sixteen-year-old Ed shook Fake Gerard’s body. _“This is a joke, right? Stop! Hey! I thought nothing could kill you!”_ Sixteen-year-old Ed stood and kicked Fake Gerard’s body. _“You’re the ultimate shield, right? You’re indestructible, right? I can’t kill you!”_

Sixteen-year-old Ed threaded his hands into his bangs and crumpled to the ground, his guilt, sorrow, and desperation releasing themselves in the form of a terrible scream. Fake Gerard’s body started to melt away as sixteen-year-old Ed sobbed on the floor.

“ _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”_

“Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop!”

And suddenly they were back in Gerard’s entryway. Real Ed was in the same position sixteen-year-old Ed had been in after killing Fake Gerard, his head none-too-gently banging against the floor as he begged for it to stop. All around him were small, colorful gems shining with the same glorious lights that he had taken from their chests.

Alphonse reached him first.

“Brother! Brother, please. It’s okay! I’m okay! None of that was—”

Ed’s body abruptly stilled before he yanked Alphonse into a tight hug.

“Al. God, Alphonse, I thought I had lost you again. I thought.” He buried his face in Alphonse’s hair and held the younger boy tight enough that his grip was visible. A second later, his head was up.

“That means—”

Ed’s tear-filled eyes met Gerard’s, and the blonde was on his feet with one hand on Gerard’s shoulder and the other hand lifting his shirt a moment later. His flesh hand pressed against where he had stabbed Fake-Gerard. A second of a second after that, his body sagged. Gerard was quick to wrap his arms around Ed to hold him up, and the blonde didn’t stop him.

Ed laid his head tiredly on Gerard’s shoulder, quietly breathing him in.

“You’re alive. _Thank god_ you’re alive.”

The warmth Gerard felt blossoming in his chest at someone caring so deeply for him – for the fact that he was alive – was unrivaled by anything he had ever felt before.

“Yeah. I’m alive.”

Gerard held Ed tighter, well-aware that someone else would be pulling him away to check him over and ask questions in less than a minute.

“Brother, it wasn’t real.”

Alphonse’s arm snaked its way under Ed’s, and Gerard forced himself to let go.

“It was real, Al. There are these… _worlds_ on the other side of the Gate. In some of them there are no Cores. In some of them there’s no alchemy. In some of them _that_ happens.”

“Brother… Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“It only happens when I mess with Core alchemy, and like you said, it isn’t real. Not in this world, anyhow.”

“But it feels real to you. I know it does.”

“I’m fine, Al.”

“You’re not! If you knew this would happen, you shouldn’t have done it!”

“If I didn’t do this, everyone here would be even more at risk than they already are, and it would be because of me! I never know what it’s going to show me, only that it won’t be pleasant. And if a few bad memories are the price of keeping you guys safe, I’ll gladly—”

Alphonse swung Ed around to hold him up by his coat instead.

“ _Why?_   Why are you always so willing to sacrifice yourself for others? You said back there that I’m all you have, but you’re all I have, too! I can’t lose you, Brother.” Alphonse’s face was twisted with anger and frustration. He looked ready to cry. _“I can’t.”_

Ed reached up to grip his brother’s wrists.

“Sorry Al.”

Anything else Ed had to say was lost along with his consciousness.

**(***Intertwined***)**

A day and a half. That’s how long Fullmetal slept after creating the alchemic security pendants. It drove Roy crazy with worry, and it gave him time to think.

What he had seen Edward go through wasn’t something he could take lightly. Those particular events weren’t something Ed had personally lived through, even if he felt like it now, but it was the same Edward. That incredible empathy over the death of his enemies and willingness to give up anything and everything for the safety of his brother—that was Edward. And that meant he had felt very, very similar things in his journey thus far.

The chimeras he had taken out. The creators he had murdered. The lives he hadn’t been able to save. Roy had no doubt each and every one of them weighed heavily on his shoulders.

The Colonel had just been too blind to see it.

It wasn’t that Edward never broke down. He just did it alone. He fell apart and cried and pleaded for the pain to stop, and then he got up and moved on before anyone could offer a hand. Or more realistically, before anyone could offer to take some of the pain for themselves.

When Edward finally opened his eyes, Pinako Rockbell was there to hand him a glass of water and tell him what an idiot he’d been. Roy was there to hand him a fresh-pressed uniform.

When this promotion-ordeal blew over, Roy would double his efforts to keep Fullmetal out of the line of fire. Triple them. Anything to stop Edward from experiencing that pain again.

“What time is it?”

“Two o’clock. Your promotion is in four hours.”

Pinako pushed the uniform away.

“Get that out of his face. He’s in no shape to get promoted tonight.”

Edward sat up.

“I’m fine, Granny.”

“Even if you are fine, which you _aren’t_ , since when do you wear a uniform to anything?”

“Since the Führer’s a bastard.”

“The Führer has always been a bastard.”

“Yeah? Well, this is supposed to help him tone it down.”

Edward shrugged like he didn’t really get it either, which was probably true.

“I understand you don’t want me near Fullmetal right now, but this is as much for his safety as it is ours. He needs to accept this promotion properly, or there’s no telling how the Führer will take it. He’s already been humiliated once. I doubt he’ll react well to being stood up on top of that.”

Pinako scowled at Roy before patting down Edward’s un-brushed hair.

“You always were one to pick a fight with the biggest boy on the playground.” She turned back to Roy. “Alright, hang it over there. He can go, but forget arriving early. He stays in bed for as long as physically possible.

“Of course. May I go over the specifics of today to better prepare him for the event?”

“Make it quick.”

“Tell me everything.”

Pinako and Edward glared at each other.

“Granny, this is stuff I need to know.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you. You need someone soft and sweet who’ll hold your hand and encourage you to stay the heck away from people like the Führer. Like Alphonse does for Winry.”

“I’m not Winry.”

“You certainly aren’t! Winry listens to me every now and again. She’s taller, too.”

“Like you have room to talk.” Ed turned from Pinako to Roy. “Ignore her. What is it I need to know?”

“The ceremony is being held at Central’s Industrial Museum. Führer King Bradley will be the one presenting you with your new rank, but protocol dictates you should wait until he’s seated before beginning your speech.”

“I have a speech?”

“It’s nothing hard. You need to be respectable while staying believable. Say ‘It’s an honor to receive this promotion. I’ll do my best to better protect the people with my new position.’ And walk off stage. No one’s going to believe you if you give anything longer, and no one who knows you will believe it at all. They’ll think you’re baring your neck to the Führer, and with any luck, he’ll think that, too.”

“It’s an honor to receive this promotion. I’ll do my best to better protect the people with my new position.”

Fullmetal looked like the words themselves tasted bad, and Roy nodded.

“Right. There will be a select few guards at this event, and no firearms will be allowed. That gives you a distinct advantage because they aren’t going to take your arm.”

“Or your gloves.”

“My gloves are a different story, unfortunately. Have you ever been to the Industrial Museum?”

“No.”

“The ground-floor is made of coal with a thin layer of glass separating us from walking on it. If anything should happen to that glass, I run the risk of setting the whole place ablaze.”

“Shit.”

“The Führer may not know everything, but he knows enough to set the stage against us.”

“What are the chances this will run smoothly?”

Roy pursed his lips.

“You’ve never cared about chances of success before.”

“I’ve never had so many people I care about standing this close to the firing line before.”

Fullmetal’s inherent need to disregard all social context and do as he pleased was the source material for an endless number of Roy’s headaches. Somehow, this docile Fullmetal was even worse.

“We’re going to keep your family safe. Even if this doesn’t help, you’ve basically set us up to link the Führer to the recent string of chimera attacks. Until then, Alphonse and Winry can stay with us. And you as well, Miss Rockbell.”

“Nope.”

“If it’s a matter of having a place to stay or retrieving your things, we’ll handle it—”

“Just who do you think I am? Listen here, young man. I didn’t spend my life up to this point worrying about when I was going to die, and I’m not about to start now. If that idiot of a Führer wants to target my boys, he’ll have to go through me.”

“Granny…” Edward picked up the glass of water at his bedside and emptied it. “I’m awfully thirsty. Mind getting me a refill?”

Pinako frowned and took the empty glass.

“If you want to speak to him alone, you can just say so.” She made it all the way to the door before turning around and pointing the empty glass at Roy. “Keep your hands to yourself.” And then she was gone.

Roy chuckled.

“What?”

“I was just thinking that with you two and Winry as his role models, it’s a wonder Alphonse turned out so well-mannered.”

Roy expected a sharp rebuttal, so of course Edward simply shrugged.

“Pretty much a miracle, if you ask me.”

Roy watched Edward run his hand through his hair a few times but said nothing. He wasn’t new to the waiting game, and whatever the normally hotheaded blonde wanted to tell him, he wanted to hear it.

“Mustang… _Roy_. I don’t plan on going down without a fight. That doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about what happens if I do go down. Al and Winry are old enough to handle themselves. They’ve got Granny, too. They can handle any of the stupid, day-to-day things that come their way. Unfortunately, some people can hold grudges even after the battle is finished. If I die, I need you to look after them. Not like move them to Central and lock them down, but make sure they’re safe.”

Roy wanted to tell Fullmetal not to worry about things like that because they wouldn’t happen, but the reality was that good men lost their lives all the time. Edward Elric, if nothing else, was a good man.

“I will.”

Edward grinned, and it was brighter than the overhead lights.

“I appreciate it.”

Edward glanced around the room once before tossing his sheets off and standing, black boxer-briefs doing nothing to hide his lithe figure.

“As thanks, I was thinking we could go on another date. You know, after I finish accepting this bullshit promotion.”

“You have something in mind?”

“I do.”

Fullmetal’s toothy grin took an arrogant turn that said his version of a date would be far less relaxing than what Roy was used to.

“Then I look forward to it.”

Fullmetal hummed and removed his uniform from the dry-cleaning bag. He apparently had no qualms about getting dressed in front of Roy, so Roy stared as he liked.

The wounds Edward had received from the chimera were an angry red, but they were healing. There was minimal scarring at the juncture between Edward’s automail leg and flesh thigh, and Roy idly wondered if it were ticklish.

The boxer-briefs weren’t skin-tight, like his leather pants, but they certainly didn’t leave much to the imagination. Roy could easily make out the firmness of Edward’s ass and the soft outline of his cock.

Then Edward started roughly putting on his uniform, and Roy’s sexual attraction was abruptly overwhelmed by his obsessive nature.

“Have you ever actually worn your uniform before?”

“No. Why?”

“I didn’t think so. Take your pants back off, and do your best not to step on them as you go. A wrinkled uniform is just as bad as no uniform at all.”

Fullmetal looked both confused and incredulous, but even he seemed to realize that if anyone knew how to make a uniform look good, it was Roy. He took the pants back off and held them out in front of him, clearly unsure of how not to wrinkle them.

“Lay them on the bed and put your undershirt on first. Then your button-up, which should be buttoned from bottom to top, no exceptions.”

Roy gave an amused grin at Edward’s grimace.

“Now put on your pants, and be sure not to crinkle the material as you do it. Pull the waist up over your shirt-ends and then put on your belt.”

“I don’t need a belt. These pants fit fine.”

“It’s not about necessity. It’s about uniformity. Put on the belt.”

Fullmetal sneered but did as he was told.

“Good. You can leave your uniform jacket for last. I already set your rank-pins in the right place. All you need to do is attach your pocket watch, and you’ll be set.”

“And you do this every day?”

“Lots of people do this every day.”

“Seems like a waste of time to me.” Edward went ahead and slipped on his uniform jacket, buttoning it up as he moved back towards the bed. “You know where my watch is?”

Roy found his mind stuttering for a moment as he took in Edward in uniform. It wasn’t as though he was surprised at how good the man looked. That was a given. It was more the thought that Edward might one day wear his uniform for non-dire reasons to a function where they weren’t constantly on edge. Just because Roy asked him to.

 _If_ Roy asked him to.

Though the Colonel would bet his uniform would be wrinkled and unbuttoned. If Edward had it his way, he probably wouldn’t even bother trading out his black tank for the undershirt and button up. And that would be fine. It would be genuine.

“Mustang.” Edward waved a hand in front of Roy’s face. “My watch?”

“On the bedside table with your necklace.” Roy paused to watch him hook his watch in place and tuck his necklace beneath his uniform. “Fullmetal, are you sure you’re ready for this? There’s a good chance the Führer will take this chance to strike, and if your body isn’t in top-shape, I’d rather not take the risk.”

“I already told you I’m fine.”

But his movements lacked their signature confident finesse, and Roy knew that even if Edward’s body was techically fine, he was far from at his best.

“Right. The next thing to be aware of are the seating arrangements. All seats have been assigned, though with what intentions, I can’t say. Maes, Gracia, Elicia, Alphonse, Winry, Pinako, Gerard, you, and I will all be at the front, center table. Namae, Elaine, Hawkeye and Havoc will be at the table to our right. Fuery, Breda, Falman and Alex will be behind them. To our left is Bradley, his wife, his son, and Solaris. The rest of the tables have mostly new or un-notable soldiers and select press whose only visible connection is expressing some sort of support for you. Olivier and Gerard’s rag-tag group of friends will also be there, though they’ve all been placed at separate tables.”

“Do seating arrangements actually matter?”

“Every detail matters. The better you know your surroundings and situation, the more likely you are to come out on top.”

Edward huffed and leaned against the wall.

“How do you handle all of this every-detail-matters crap all the time? I think I’d die if I had to worry about stupid little things like who’s sitting where everywhere I went.”

“They’re only stupid little details until you need them. I’d rather be overly-prepared than under-prepared.”

“I’d rather kick their asses and be done with it.”

Roy and Edward looked at each other with a distinct lack of amusement before the blonde cracked a grin.

“Good thing we’re on the same side. I’d hate to have to prepare against both our fighting styles.”

Thinking about the headaches Roy got preparing against Fullmetal alone, he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Fair enough.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Alphonse was smart. By most people’s standards, he was a genius. That didn’t mean he had any misconceptions about his level of brilliance in the span of things. In comparison to his brother, for example, he was probably considered little better than average.

A lot of people thought that Alphonse would resent his brother for constantly outshining him. They didn’t see how he could stand to be so smart and still live in his brother’s shadow.

Those were the people Alphonse found fit to call idiots.

Edward didn’t “outshine” him. He shared his light. He brought Alphonse’s attention to theories and connections he never would have made on his own. He expanded Alphonse’s understandings and enlightened his worldview. He was everything a big brother was supposed to be, and not looking up to him wasn’t something Alphonse could comprehend.

Edward was his brother, his teacher, and his best friend.

So when they got to the doors of the Industrial Museum and Edward pulled him aside, he thought nothing of it. They had plenty of things they preferred to keep between the two of them, and it wasn’t unusual for Edward to forgo all social niceties and start a private conversation in public.

Though he had spent the majority of the ride over tugging awkwardly at the uniform, Colonel Mustang had made a point of alchemically ironing out the crinkles and straightening the crooked edges before leaving the vehicle. It didn’t, per say, look bad on him. Just strange.

There was too much of a likeness to everyone else. He was too conformed.

“Yes Brother?”

Edward watched him for a full fifteen seconds before pulling him into a tight hug. Alphonse tried to lift his arms to hug bag, but Edward’s grip was too much.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Al.”

Alphonse stiffened, unsure how he was supposed to respond.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I don’t think I’m going to come out of it unscathed. I need you to know that I love you, and I’m proud of you.”

“Brother, stop. If you think it’s going to go this badly, we can just leave.”

“We can’t.”

“I don’t understand. You don’t even want the stupid promotion!”

Edward’s grip got even tighter, if possible.

“It’s not about the promotion. It’s about letting the Führer know that if he wants to go after me, he has to go after _me_. I’m not going to run away.”

“Brother _please_ …”

“I love you, Al. More than anything and anyone.”

With a final squeeze, Edward pulled back and grinned. What hurt most wasn’t the “goodbye” in his stance, but the lack of regret.

He would do anything for Alphonse, and that included dying.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Most everything in the Industrial Museum set Roy on edge, but the two most notable things were the way Alphonse sat as close to Edward as physically possible and the way Edward’s lips subtly mouthed the words “It’s an honor to receive this promotion. I’ll do my best to better protect the people with my new position.” over and over again.

Fullmetal was steeling himself against something – _clinging_ to the plans and order Roy had provided him with – and it was nerve-wracking. He had even been polite to the Führer.

Edward hardly touched his meal when it came out, despite not having eaten for two days. When Pinako insisted he eat, he laughed it off saying he was more tired than hungry and focused back in on the podium. When the waiter took his plate away, it was still full.

The room quieted as Führer King Bradley rose and made his way to the podium, and Pinako leaned over to say “I don’t know about you all, but I’m in no mood to watch Edward bend to this fascist’s will. I’ll be in the ladies’ room until this is over.”

She left the room as he tapped on the microphone.

“Good evening! I would first like to thank you all for gathering here today. As you know, we’ve come together to commemorate a very special young man who has shown a sympathy and understanding for the suffering of others that far surpasses that of the day-to-day man. Edward Elric has spent many years in the military fighting not only for a better country, but for the people. His most recent show of care came in the form of a rather unexpected, undeniably necessary monument.

“Central Command now stands proudly as a reminder of the lives lost during the Ishval Civil War and the need to avoid such horrific bloodshed in the future. Major Elric keeps us grounded in the mindset that the search for justice and the greater good should not come at the expense of the innocent, and for that, I’m proud to be the one to bestow his promotion. Please welcome Lieutenant Colonel Elric to the stage!”

The Führer started clapping, and the rest of the room clapped along with him. Fullmetal rose from his seat with a proud grace that Roy rarely saw outside of men prepared for a final stand. His strength – both mental and physical – was clear, and it chilled Roy to the bone.

When Edward reached the podium, he shook hands with theFührer. Bradley proceeded to unpin his current rank and replace it with his new one. They faced forward for pictures, none of which Edward smiled for, and then the Führer said “And now a few words from our guest of honor.”

Fullmetal looked from table to table as he waited for the Führer to take his seat, eyes finally landing on Roy’s. Roy gave a subtle nod, and Edward’s shoulders relaxed.

“It’s an honor to receive—”

_Bang._

“Brother!”

“Fullmetal!”

“Ed!”

Fullmetal’s body fell backwards from the force of the shot, limp only for a moment before twisting himself to clap and slam his hands on the ground as he landed. A blue light shone in the balcony, and whoever he had targeted screamed. Then his expression morphed from pain and anger to fear, and he clapped again. Before anyone could get any farther than the front of their tables, a bright blue light filled the entire room, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

When Roy opened his eyes again, their table was encased in a thick glass box filled with little holes no bigger than Roy’s pinky. Air holes. The box was only two feet larger than the table on any side and the ceiling was barely taller than Roy could touch.

It wasn’t just his table, either. As he glanced around, he noted every other section in much the same predicament. Edward was the only one free, and he was coughing and holding his bleeding chest on stage. Alphonse continued in his rush forward, uncaring of the glass, and pounded on the box.

“Brother! Brother, let me out! You need help! You—”

The responding crash came from an ugly, hairless, eyeless chimera throwing itself against their glass box. Alphonse shrieked and fell back, and Roy waited for a breathless moment to see if the thing could break through.

It slammed itself into the box three more times before backing off. The box didn’t have a single scratch.

So not glass then.

Elicia cried while Alphonse began to frantically hit the wall again, but all Roy could do was stare as the beast turned its attention towards the only accessible person in the room.

It leapt at Edward with ungodly speed, and the blonde quickly transmuted a lance onto his arm and rolled out of the way. He used his automail leg to kick the beast back off the stage, and Roy felt his breath hitch as he saw the blood already staining Edward’s uniform.

“Damn it Brother, let me help!”

Alphonse threw himself against the wall. Gerard, who had done nothing more than move himself from sitting on his chair to sitting on the table, said “Save your breath. That’s diamond.”

Roy turned to see Gerard’s face lacking all of its usual amusement.

“Alphonse, can you transmute a hole in it?”

“I-I can try, but I don’t think it’ll do much good. Diamond is nothing more than a bunch of carbon. There isn’t anything for me to transmute it to!”

Roy hit the diamond wall as hard as he could while Maes looked around and then down.

“Coal. Alphonse, it’s coal. Look at the ground! He used the coal from the floor!”

Roy waited for the trademark Elric brilliance to light up Alphonse’s eyes, but all he got was a look of despair.

“Damn it! Brother showed me some of his notes on the possibility of alchemy being based on molecular rearrangement, but I only glanced at it! And even if I _can_ figure out the circle, I don’t know the molecular difference between coal and diamond!”

“Fuck!”

Roy turned back to see Fullmetal underneath the chimera and a secondary beast rushing forth. Edward roared and threw the monster on top of him into the one charging, wasting no time in running forward and thrusting his lance into the stunned chimera’s ear and, by proxy, skull.

One of them went limp while the other clamped down on Edward’s flesh leg. He looked more angry than in pain and quickly stabbed the chimera in the back. He got two hits in before a third chimera tackled him from nowhere.

“Oh God! Ed! Please, Al! You’ve got to think! You’ve got to—”

“He doesn’t need to do shit. Even if we could get out of this box, we shouldn’t.”

Winry glared at Gerard through her tears.

“We have to help him!”

“We get out of here, all we’ll be is a distraction.”

Alphonse turned and pulled Gerard by the fur of his vest.

“We can help him!”

Gerard sneered and easily forced Alphonse to release his grip.

“No. _We_ can help him.” He motioned to himself, Alphonse, Roy, and Maes. “ _They_ can draw the chimeras’ attention. Look at these tables. Brad sorted us out to have just as many weaklings as there are capable fighters, and that means each and every one of us would be distracted by someone else needing protection.”

“Everyone except you.”

Roy made an attempt to call Gerard out on his claim, but the man only frowned.

“Look, I know you aren’t happy about me being your competition, and I get that. I don’t like having you as competition either. But I genuinely like Ed, and that means that if he looked me in the eyes and asked me to protect _you_ instead of him, I would do it.”

Maes saved Roy from having to respond by saying, “I don’t like the sound of it, but I think Gerard is right. Even if we get out, all it’ll do is distract him. Everyone he loves is here, and if he wants any chance of defeating these things, he needs to know that we’re safe.”

Another blue light lit up part of the room, and the rumbling floor drew Roy’s attention back to Edward. The blonde had pulled up the ground to create a sort of platform.

Luckily, it didn’t look like these chimeras could climb. Unluckily, they had enough teeth to take out parts of the base.

“Why doesn’t he just put himself in one of these boxes?”

Roy didn’t spare Gracia a glance as he said, “He can’t. There’s no coal left.” _He used it all to protect us_ went unsaid. “Alphonse, work on a circle that can get us out of here. If anyone can figure out what Fullmetal’s done, it’s you.”

Alphonse looked equally distressed and glad to have something to do.

On the platform, Edward ‘s hand pressed harshly to his chest, white glove already stained red from the bleeding. His face twisted in a grimace as he took off his coat and tugged at the shirts until they tore enough to reveal the bullet wound in his chest.

If it hadn’t hit his heart, it had come pretty damn close.

Fullmetal put the arm of his jacket into his mouth and bit down, pain and apprehension clear even from this distance. He took visibly deeper breaths before snapping his fingers, an overly large flame appearing on his hand before simmering down to lightly cover his palm. Roy couldn’t help the dread he felt as he realized what was about to happen any more than he could make himself turn away.

Ed’s deep breaths quickened and then slowed to one, diaphragm-based hold. Then his eyes screwed shut, and his hand touched his chest.

Even through clenched teeth and a jacket, the scream was heart-wrenching. He writhed on the ground for a full minute after that, nearly rolling off the edge of his perch as he tried to regain control of his faculties.

 _Crash_.

Fullmetal’s head shot up to see what had made the noise, and Roy turned with him. Somehow or another, Falman had managed to evade the diamond box. He was at the entrance door, jaw slack from either shock or fear one. A broken display case sat innocently at his feet.

Roy saw Edward's shoulders relax slightly as he realized that it was one of Roy’s unit, and the Colonel hated himself even as he shouted “He’s unarmed!”

Then the race to get to Falman began. Falman, who could hardly be considered useful in the field even with a weapon. Falman, who Edward had met only thrice.

As much as it twisted Roy’s heart to admit it, he was already saying goodbye.

Edward would do a lot to protect Falman, but it wasn’t just Falman’s life on the line. He had to worry about his brother, too. As far as Edward was concerned, in a race to save either Alphonse or Falman, there was little choice to be made.

Roy prayed his bishop could pull it together.

Fullmetal moved to the other end of his platform to get a running start and used his hand as a base to flip himself over the chimeras. They smelled him – smelled his blood – and made to chase after him. Fullmetal must have already realized they were tracking him mostly by smell as he tossed his bloody jacket back towards them. While they wasted precious seconds tearing it apart, Fullmetal sprinted across the room.

Falman snapped out of his fear-fueled freeze too late, and Fullmetal’s body was the only thing that stood between him and death.

“Run!”

Falman didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped back through the doors as Fullmetal flipped the chimera onto its back, transmuted his entire arm into a lance, and drove it through the beast’s shoulder.

Elicia screamed as Ed was tossed off the now howling chimera. He rushed out of the room after Falman and the uninjured chimera, the final monster close at his heels.

“Alphonse, we _need_ that circle.”

“I’m trying! I think I might- I might have the formula down, but I still need the molecular differences.”

Alphonse went back to staring at his table-etched diagram, and all they could do was wait.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Honestly, Vato hated fieldwork. He was a scholar, and he preferred it that way. ‘Articulation over adventure’ was what his mother used to say.

Now, however, he wished he had tried a little more adventure. He wished he could do anything other than run for his life and hope Edward Elric could stop the… the _things_ chasing after them.

Vato took a chance to glance back and screamed when he saw two chimeras barreling after him. Fullmetal was running between the two things, and he looked hurt. Really hurt. It terrified Vato that such a strong alchemist could be so hurt by the things coming after him.

Fullmetal transmuted his arm back into an arm before clapping and hitting the ground. Vato lost his footing as the floor quaked beneath him, eventually throwing him one way and the chimera another. Blue light flashed on the other side of the impromptu wall before a bloody metal lance rammed through it.

Once. Twice. Three times.

One of the beasts howled while the other found its way around, forcing Vato back to his feet and into a panicked sprint.

He had to do something. To fight back or trap it or anything that would make this nightmare end.

Vato ducked into a room full of treasured mementos from the industrial era. He grabbed the sharpest thing he could find and turned around to prepare for a fight.

The fight, unfortunately, was already there.

A chimera lunged at him with startling speed. He was easily knocked to the ground, losing his grip on the metal artifact as he went. His arms shot up to its neck in an attempt to hold it back, efforts nearly nullified by the length of its jaw-snout alone.

It had teeth. Rows and rows of sharp teeth without any eyes to guide them. Its breath smelled like rot and Vato screamed as it tried to thrash forward to taste his face.

Well aware that the chances of Fullmetal making his way out of the woodwork were slim, Vato took a chance. He shoved the thing back with all his strength, holding it there with a single, fragile arm as he grasped desperately for the artifact.

When his fingers curled around the metal, he slackened his extended arm and drove the artifact as deep into the chimera’s shoulder as he could. It went in surprisingly easily, and the thing leaned back and howled. He attempted to push himself backwards while it was distracted, but the distraction only served to anger it.

Its clawed paw came down on Vato’s chest hard and heavy, and the only thought in his mind was how he would do anything to breathe just one more time.

Its open mouth sped towards Vato’s head, and he felt teeth scrape his cheek before it stopped.

Vato, still struggling to catch his breath under all that weight, opened his eyes to see Fullmetal standing over him, flesh arm and shoulder caught in the chimera’s mouth. He could see the chimera’s teeth digging into Fullmetal’s chest and the way Fullmetal’s arm shook with the effort to keep it from reaching Vato.

Somewhere in the midst of his fear, Vato wondered if its teeth were long enough to pierce Fullmetal’s heart.

“Go.”

The valiant part of Vato that had led him to becoming a soldier in the first place said to stay and help. The coward in him turned tail and ran. Vato swung around three corners, went down two hallways, and stopped fifty feet short of a wall-wide display case when he realized nothing was following him.

No chimera.

No Fullmetal.

His legs shook and his lips trembled. He told himself that this was just like getting lost – he had to stay still until someone found him – but the image of Fullmetal above him stopped that. Fullmetal, who had only personally spoken to Vato once, and only offhandedly, was out there fighting so that he could live.

If Vato couldn’t gather up the courage to go back and see this through, he didn’t deserve the extended life Fullmetal was offering.

Steeling himself for the worst and repeating over and over again in his head that it was what Mustang would do, Vato ran back.

Fullmetal was where Vato had left him, but in much worse shape. The chimera lay less than a few feet away, its head completely separated from its body.

“Fullmetal?”

Sharp golden eyes looked up, taking a moment too long to focus on Vato. He opened his mouth to speak but just ended up coughing. Fresh blood dotted the floor from even that simple a motion, and Vato couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as he knelt to touch the blonde.

“Fullmetal, it’s going to be alright. I’m going to get the Colonel and—” Vato reeled back as he realized that there was a wound in Fullmetal’s chest bleeding more profusely than the rest. He shoved his palm against the wound, silently praying for the bleeding to stop as he said “It’s going to be alright, Fullmetal. They’re coming for us, okay? All we have to do is wait right here and-and—”

Fullmetal coughed again, sending fresh red blood dribbling down his chin.

“Tell Al… coal is-is hexagonal.” He coughed again, making Vato press down harder. “Diamond is tetrahedral.”

Normally tan skin was pale, and Vato shook his head.

“You’re getting a little delusional, but that’s to be expected with the amount of blood you lost. It’s normal. You’re doing fine and-and…” Vato couldn’t stop the sob that crawled out of his throat as the watched the blood soak his gloves. “Why didn’t you just run? You should have just run!”

Even in his haze of blood loss-induced disarray, Fullmetal managed to look at him like he was stupid.

“You’re… his… family, right?” Fullmetal took in a deep, watery breath while Vato felt something inside himself break. “Tell Alphonse.”

Vato hesitated one more time before taking both of Fullmetal’s hands and pressing them tightly to the wound on his chest.

“Keep pressure on it! I’m getting help!”

Vato ran faster than he knew he could. He ignored the stitches in his side and the pain in the back of his throat. He didn’t even try to stop the flow of tears down his cheeks. When he got back to the promotion room, he ran straight to the center table. For the first time in his life, he completely bypassed Roy Mustang and instead pounded on the glass-like material in front of Alphonse.

“Alphonse! Alphonse, he said-he said that coal is hexagonal and diamond-diamond is tetrahedral! It’s _tetrahedral_!”

Vato stared desperately at Alphonse, hoping to any god willing to listen that the young man would know what that meant.

“Please, Alphonse! He’s dying.”

Alphonse’s face became even paler, if possible, and the man quickly bit his thumb hard enough to draw blood. He used his thumb like a pen to draw a complex circle on the see-through box. When his hand hit the surface, a blue light shined and the front of their box turned black.

It was smashed a moment later.

“Where is he?”

“I don’t-I don’t know! I can take you to him!”

Alphonse nodded, and Mustang grabbed his arm.

“Let go of me!”

“Alphonse, stop! Let Maes get him.”

“Fuck you! He’s my brother!”

“And he needs you to stay calm! You’re the only one who can release people from these boxes, and we need that. This isn’t just about making sure he’s alive now! It’s making sure he’s able to stay that way!”

Vato cringed at the angry, commanding tone Mustang was using, and Hughes quickly stepped out of the box.

“Alphonse, I need you to release Alex. He can help me get Ed to safety.”

There was a long, pained silence that Maes interrupted with a sharp “Alphonse!”

And then they were on their way.

The last thing Vato heard before rushing off with Armstrong and Hughes was Mustang telling Gerard to collect Fullmetal’s shooter.

**(***Intertwined***)**

“I hear your pet’s in pretty bad shape.”

Gerard’s eyes slid to the left as Solaris took a seat on the table he was leaning against.

“So it would seem.”

“I could help him, you know. _We_ could help him.”

“How? By helping _Brad_ with his little stone?”

Her smile was as sweet as spun sugar. Gerard hated sweets.

“It’s not little, and it could save him. Save him or bring him back. Whichever comes first.”

Gerard looked back to the spot where Ed had made a platform to safely cauterize his own bullet wound.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And what would he want in return? My undying loyalty?”

“That would certainly be welcome, but not necessary. You see, we’ve got a little bug in our chimera project, and it looks like we’re going to need some help ironing it out.”

Gerard gave her his full attention for the first time since she entered the room.

“I don’t do alchemy.”

“But you know someone who does.”

Gerard’s lips twisted in an unamused sneer.

“He won’t help with something like that.”

“He will if he thinks it’s to stop them rather than make them better. You saw him last night. The boy has an eye for problem-solving.”

“And if he doesn’t make it?”

“I hear his brother has a pretty good head on his shoulders.”

Solaris leaned in to run a finger down Gerard’s hairline, but he caught her wrist before she could make contact.

“No deal.”

“Oh? And here I thought you cared about all of your pets.”

“I think we both know Ed’s got a knack for figuring out when he’s being deceived. If I help you, he’ll know. Then Brad will have his perfect chimera, Ed will forever bundle me up with the Homunculi family, and you’ll have all the chaos you can handle. What part of that sounds like what I want?”

“My, my. What a pessimistic outlook.”

She tried to pull her hand back, only faltering slightly when Gerard didn’t let go.

“Ed has always seen through us. Right from day one. You think it’s coincidence that he calls you Lust, me Greeling, and Brad Pride? He may not get the reasoning behind it, but the concept is there. All it would take is a little push, and he’d have us by the tail.”

“What a pretty thought.”

Gerard tightened his grip and her smile turned sour.

“You think I’m bluffing.”

“Of course. You wouldn’t sacrifice yourself any more than I would.”

Irritation and impatience burned in Gerard’s chest, and he gave a grin that reflected it.

“Wouldn’t I? You think lust and greed go hand in hand, but that isn’t true. What you feel when you want something is a craving. You want it and you want it now. If you don’t get it, the moment passes and you find a new fancy. No harm, no foul. Greed isn’t like that.

“Greed is an _obsession_. It’s a bottomless pit in the darkest part of your soul that begs for the thing you want: all of it. When I want something, I want to _drown_ in it. If I can’t get it there’s a chance it’ll pass, but there’s a bigger chance that the knowledge I’ll never have it will eat away at me from the inside. That kind of greed isn’t something you just live with.”

Gerard yanked Solaris closer, enjoying the sharp sound she made as she slipped from her perch.

“Personally, I’d rather die. Do you understand that?”

She didn’t answer, so he brought their faces close enough for him to be able to rip her throat out with his teeth.

“If Ed dies there will be no chance of me ever genuinely filling that void in my chest, and I’ll spend the rest of my days taking it out on the people who made it happen. Because trust me when I say this: As soon as the ability to sate myself truly vanishes, death will be a blessing. It just comes down to who kills whom first.”

Gerard tightened his grip until he felt her bone quiver and then let go.

“I don’t really care what you’re going to do next, but it would be in your best interest to do it far, _far_ away from Ed.”

Gerard went back to staring at the makeshift platform while Solaris made herself scarce.

What a bitch.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Thirteen hours. Thirteen fucking hours of Edward in intensive care. Alphonse didn’t think he had felt this scared since his brother’s limbs were ripped off in front of him.

Maes entered the waiting room with a frown that made Alphonse’s heart freeze in his chest.

“How is he?”

Maes stared at Alphonse for a moment before sweeping over the other people in the room and coming back to Alphonse.

“Maes.”

Mustang drew his attention again, voice lacking its usual commanding tone.

“Alphonse, you can come back.”

The pain on Mustang’s face at the utter lack of information was sad, but not sad enough for Alphonse to give up or share any remaining time with his brother. He followed Maes into the other room without another word.

His stomach turned when he saw how many machines Edward was hooked up to, and he cringed at the new burn-mark on his brother’s chest.

“Is he going to make it?”

Maes’ frown didn’t falter as he motioned for Al to take a seat.

“Physically, Ed is fine. We got him to the hospital quickly, where they were able to remove the bullet and give him a blood transfusion. The doctors are calling it a miracle that he wasn’t dead from the bullet alone. Whoever shot him hit his heart dead-on. With the caliber and distance, it should have blown a hole in his chest and then the floor after that.”

Al grimaced at the imagery.

“For whatever reason, it barely touched his heart and then just stopped. Aside from the burn he gave himself and some teeth-marks on his chest, arm, and shoulder, all of his other wounds are superficial. He _should_ be fine.”

Al hated the way his hands trembled as he said, “But he isn’t.”

“No. The doctors aren’t sure how it happened or what to do about it because they’ve never seen it before, but Ed’s Core is drained. I’m assuming it’s the combination of the security pendants he made for us and the large-scale alchemy he did to fight the chimeras. All we know for sure is that without that Core energy, his body is shutting down.”

“Is there anything we can do about it? Any way we can help him?”

At that, the pain showed through on Maes’ face.

“He doesn’t have enough energy on his own, but if another Core holder were to lend him some, it might kick-start his Core into re-energizing.”

It only took Alphonse a moment to understand what Maes was implying, and his blood ran cold.

“You mean bonding.”

“I do.”

“And if he doesn’t bond?”

Maes shrugged.

“Maybe his Core will find a way to produce the energy on its own, but chances are slim.”

“How slim?”

Maes didn’t respond, and that was response enough.

“Why… why tell me? Shouldn’t Mustang be in here for this?”

“Alphonse, you know Ed better than anyone else, and that means you have the right to make the call on whether or not Ed would want us to save him. If you say no, I intend to tell Roy that the damage was too great and there was nothing we could do about it. Telling him anything else – letting him know that he could save Ed but isn’t allowed – would serve no purpose other than cruelty.”

“What if he doesn’t want to bond with Brother? What if he isn’t willing to do it without Brother’s consent?”

Maes heaved a sigh as he stared at Edward, a defeated look dulling his eyes.

“Then that’s on him.”

“I… When do I have to decide?”

“Before leaving this room, if possible.”

“What? But I—”

“I know it’s a lot to ask. Believe me. If there were another option, I’d give it to you. The problem is that these machines are only delaying the inevitable, and there’s no telling how long they’ll be able to do it. Maybe he has weeks or months or will recover on his own. Maybe his Core will shut off within the hour. We won’t know until he starts to improve or, more likely, decline, and by then it’ll probably be too late.”

Maes’ stare was a hard apology, and Alphonse felt sorrow and anxiety well within him until he felt he would burst.

“What if I choose the wrong one?”

“Ed loves you. No matter what you decide or what the consequences of that decision may be, that won’t change.”

Al buried his head in his hands as he tried to think about what his brother would want, but that was the true difference between them. Not brilliance or height or occupation: selfishness. Edward was only selfish on an artificial level while Al was the opposite.

When push came to shove, Al could only care about himself.

“Go get Mustang.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

When Maes brought Roy into Edward’s hospital room, he was prepared to see pale skin and flatlined machines. He was prepared to see Alphonse crying over his brother and prepared to offer help in any way possible. He was prepared for a funeral.

So when he saw Edward’s chest weakly rising and falling, the relief he felt was immense enough to physically shake him.

“He’s alive.”

Alphonse nodded and Maes left the room, forcing Roy to look at their situation through a new lens.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“His Core is shutting down. He used up too much energy keeping us safe, and now there isn’t enough for him to do the same for himself.”

Roy took a few steps closer to the bed, but Alphonse refused to look away from his brother’s face.

“Is there anything we can do for him?”

“Not we. _You_.” Golden eyes raised to meet obsidian. “If you bond with him, it should give his Core the energy it needs to refill itself and get him back to normal.”

Quite suddenly, the relief Roy had felt upon seeing Fullmetal alive plummeted. His mind raced with the possibilities while his body all but froze. He didn’t know whether to ask questions or wait for more information. He didn’t know what questions to ask.

“I can’t make you bond with him. I’d like to say I’ll understand either way, but I won’t. Not really. Ed is my world, and if you don’t do this, he’ll most likely die. I won’t be able to move past that. I won’t ever forgive you.”

Roy swallowed thickly, his normally sharp mind hazy with emotion.

“We can’t un-bond afterwards.”

“I know.”

“Is this what Edward would want?”

“Yes.”

As much as that was what Roy wanted to hear, his gut said Alphonse was lying.

“How much time do we have?”

The younger blonde shrugged tersely.

“When he crashes, time’s up.”

Roy felt genuine fear curl in his stomach as he realized that Edward’s life was in his hands alone. All he had to do was step forward and bond, and Edward would live.

But would he want to?

Fiercely independent. Brash. Hot-headed. Dying.

“Could I have a minute alone?”

Alphonse glanced up at Roy, equally ready to hate and thank him.

“Only a minute.”

He left the room quietly, and Roy allowed himself a few seconds of panic. Whatever he did here, there would be negative consequences. Edward hating him. Edward hating himself. Edward losing his independence. Edward dying.

“ _Fuck.”_

The Colonel gritted his teeth together and clenched his fists as he tried to force his hands to stop trembling.

“You have to know I didn’t want to bond with you this way, Fullmetal. I wanted you to ask me. I wanted you to _want_ it.” Roy took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

He used one trembling hand to touch Edward’s hair and shoulder and finally his chest, finishing the deal with a chaste kiss.

Edward’s Core, once so bright and powerful, was almost hard to find. If not for their partial bond, he wasn’t sure he could have.

It was a soft, low glow. An ember begging to be fanned.

As his kiss began to taste like tears, he reached out.

A tentative touch was all it took before heavenly pleasure rocked Roy out of his presence of mind, and it was out of his control. He felt his Core flare once before rushing through him to Edward’s Core. Fullmetal gasped beneath him, his body arching upward as he searched for more of Roy’s touch.

When Roy’s Core energy returned to him, it was hotter. It felt like he had replaced a bonfire with fire from the sun, and the tears he tasted in his kiss were suddenly that of joy. He had never felt so powerful – so complete, and his entire being ached to make sure Edward felt the same.

Edward, who was no longer a separate person but part of his very soul.

It was impossible to say how long the bonding process lasted, but when Roy’s sense of self returned, he could feel Edward’s Core again.

An extension of himself.

Blonde hair looked golden, tan skin looked flushed, and Edward looked _better_.

The machines went crazy as all of his vitals spiked back to where they should be, and Roy felt like he was tearing out his own heart when he forced himself to step away and give the doctors room.

For all he knew, he was.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Vato was alone.

He sat in the dim, lonely void of their usually bustling office area with a single lamp to alleviate the darkness. As a general rule, Vato enjoyed solitude. It gave him the peace he needed to introspect on the days past and plan for the days to come. Solitude allowed him to center himself. Being able to ensconce himself in that solitude was something he not only liked, but needed. That did not, however, mean he ever wanted his solitary life and his work life to collide.

He had always been a lonely child – too smart to play with the other children, too young to talk to the adults – and lacked the charisma required to break through those barriers. He grew up alone, made his way through the military academy alone, and assumed he would spend his professional career alone, too. It was Roy Mustang who showed him he could have friends that liked him without having to conform or dumb himself down.

While he was endeared to his solitude, he loved his friends. He never wanted to be in the office when everyone else was gone because it wasn’t meant to be a solitary place. There should always be laughing and gossiping and _at least_ one person shooting nervous glances towards Hawkeye after putting off their duties just a little too long. This hauntingly empty room was neither where he wanted to be nor where he should be.

He should be outside of Edward’s hospital room with the others, consoling chatting and using trivialities to take his mind off of the horrifying events that wouldn’t quit flashing behind his eyelids. He wanted to be there.

He just didn’t deserve to be there.

Edward was dying, and it was because Vato had made himself a distraction in the middle of a very important fight. If the blonde alchemist did die ( _please, God, no_ ), then Vato had to know that he had spent every moment possible trying to find a way to fix things. Maybe not the things he wanted to fix, like Edward’s health, but the things he _could_ fix. Like their lack of preparedness.

The Führer was responsible for this. He had hurt Edward and no doubt intended for a dozen other people in the room to be maimed or killed. That was obvious, and obvious things rarely interested Vato. The subtleties were what captured his attention.

In a room full of enemies and precious distractions, the Führer had set loose three terribly strong chimeras. They could have decimated any number of people, especially with the majority of the room unarmed. The intent was clear, and that made it illegitimate. The Führer liked to play games, and all having a clear motive meant was that the motive was a smokescreen for something else.

_A bullet._

Führer King Bradley, for whatever reason, wanted Edward gone. Not just hurt or out of the way. Gone.

The shooter was a wanted marksman that could give Hawkeye a run for her money. The gun had been powerful enough to blow a fist-wide hole in Edward’s chest (and why it didn’t was still a mystery). The distance had been so short that even Vato could have hit Edward. And then to release chimeras who were attracted by blood immediately afterwards?

It wasn’t just overkill, it was a strict order not to take any chances.

So the Führer wanted Edward gone, and he wanted it to a desperate degree. What Vato didn’t know was why. After all, as much as Edward was strong, he was still a kid. A sweet eighteen year old boy with ( _please, dear God, please_ ) his whole life ahead of him. Someone who didn’t deal in politics and didn’t go after anyone who didn’t go after him first. Not a major threat.

Bradley wasn’t a whimsical man, and that meant he had targeted Edward for good reason. This wasn’t about the ball or Central Command or some silly grudge match. Just because Vato didn’t know what else it could be about didn’t mean there wasn’t some underlying cause.

So Vato was alone. He poured over everything he knew about, around, near, and speculated of the Führer, and he did it with purpose.

Vato was useless in the field, yes, but not all battles were physical. Whether or not Edward lived through this battle ( _please, God, please let him live_ ), Vato would do everything in his power to tip the scales toward victory in the war.

Edward’s sacrifice would not be in vain.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Alphonse expected Edward to get a lot of visitors. As much as his brother was abrasive and disconnected with nearly all forms of social niceties, he was also a kind. Maybe not in the general sense of sparing people’s feelings and doing no harm, but in the meaningful sense of doing what was right. He stood by his morals and protected those weaker than himself. He was a hero in all ways that mattered.

So, after his Core energy levels stabilized, visitors coming to wish him well was a given.

Al expected Winry to stay by them as much as she could. He expected Maes – though Gracia and Elicia made themselves scarce – and he expected Namae and Elaine. He even expected Mustang’s near-constant presence. Al and Winry hadn’t been able to stand being in separate rooms for the first few days after bonding, and they were both perfectly safe. The pull for Mustang to stay near Edward had to be overwhelming.

Not that either of them gave any attention to the fact that the bonding had taken place. After muttering an off-handed “Thank you,” Alphonse had barely bothered to acknowledge the Colonel’s existence.

Maybe it was because if he did, he would have to admit (either to himself or the other man, he wasn’t sure) that there was a chance his brother would have preferred death.

Part of him even expected Gerard to visit, but the questionably-close-to-Edward Homunculi never showed up.

The one person Alphonse neither expected nor wanted to show up was the Führer, yet there the man was. Winry was asleep in the next room over. Mustang had left to change and get Edward some new clothes, Maes had gone to check on his family, and Namae and Elaine were home for the night. That left Alphonse, alone with a defenseless Fullmetal Alchemist and Führer King Bradley.

“Get out.”

The Führer’s smile didn’t waver and his steps toward Edward’s bed didn’t halt.

“I apologize for the late visit. I’m sure you were looking forward to a quiet, restful night, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t come at least once. Your brother saved us.”

“He didn’t save you. You’re the one who did this to him!”

The Führer’s lips drooped into a frown that made Alphonse momentarily question his lack of sincerity.

“I can see why you would feel that way, but I assure you I only wanted to honor your brother’s achievements. I never meant for any harm to come to him – to any member of your family.”

Alphonse saw red. His level-headed nature was lost to the fury of this monstrosity carelessly prodding wounds not yet healed, and position as Führer be damned, he was ready to fight. The temperature in the room went up ten degrees, and for a moment Al thought that Edward’s Core had sensed his distress and reacted accordingly.

Then he saw Mustang is the doorway.

The Colonel – always calm, always collected – was _livid_. His posture was relaxed, his body language was respectful, but his _eyes_ – Al never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look.

“Führer. I believe it’s time you left.”

“Colonel Mustang! As I’m sure you’re aware, this chimera incident has shaken—”

“Alphonse doesn’t want you anywhere near Edward. As both a leader and a family man, you should be able to empathize well enough to regard his wishes.”

The Führer’s face morphed into an expression of wary hurt again, but there was an underlying displeasure that hadn’t existed before. He said, “Yes. Yes, I see that now. I was just trying to give my condolences to the lad and explain that I had no part in—”

“ _Regardless_ of the role you played in the Elrics’ current predicament, they blame you. As such, your presence is causing them great strain. Strain which, as you’ve already noted from the severity of their situation, they cannot take. The most you can do for them is to leave.”

The words were understanding. The tone was empathetic. The threat was clear.

_Remove yourself before I remove you._

The two military officials stared each other down for a few seconds before the Führer conceded with a simple, “Of course. I wouldn’t wish upon them any more misfortune than they’ve already experienced.” He then turned to Alphonse and said, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” before placing a gentle hand on Edward’s leg that had Alphonse up in arms and Mustang’s fingers twitching to snap. Führer Bradley gave Edward’s femur a single, gentle pat, nodded to Mustang, and left.

Alphonse immediately straightened the sheet where the Führer had touched as though he could wipe away the action. Mustang snarled as soon as the door was shut and returned to his spot by Edward’s bed.

“How long was he here?”

“He showed up a few seconds before you did.”

“Did he do anything?”

Mustang ran a gentle hand through Edward’s bangs, worry and relief clear in both his eyes and posture.

“Nothing you didn’t see.”

Alphonse took a moment to watch the Colonel check over Edward, noting how he made sure to keep physical contact and seemed to lose all sense of his usual arrogant demeanor. Al wondered for a moment if Mustang was touching Edward so much now because he knew he was going to have to stop once the elder blonde woke up.

Guilt flushed Alphonse’s system as he thought not for the first time that his brother might not be the only one to suffer from their impromptu bonding. Mustang would have to live with having a bond-mate (arguably the perfect bond-mate) who wanted nothing to do with him.

He just as quickly thrust the guilt from his system by remembering that if they hadn’t bonded, Edward would be dead. There were no scenarios worse than that.

“Thank you. I don’t… I don’t know if I would have been able to make him leave on my own.”

Mustang glanced up at Alphonse with a hard calculation that just _wasn’t there_ when looking at Edward.

“Don’t thank me. I should have been here to make sure he never got into the room in the first place.”

“Going home was necessary. You’ve got an image to upkeep, and Brother would be angry if he woke up and all he had to wear were hospital pants and a bloody military uniform.”

Mustang hummed but gave no other response, his fingers still gently weaving themselves through Edward’s hair.

Al swallowed the guilt down, and his apology went with it.

**(***Intertwined***)**

When Ed woke up, he felt warm.

Sometimes, he would fall asleep researching in front of the fireplace at Mustang’s. Regardless of how long he was asleep or when he woke up, the fire was always lit by the time he opened his eyes.

He assumed this was one of those times.

That was why the sight of Mustang reading files beside of him wasn’t startling. If anything, it was welcome – Ed so rarely had the opportunity to watch Mustang without the arrogant bastard knowing he was being watched. As much as Ed liked looking, it wasn’t worth the ego-stroking that inevitably tagged along.

Now though, with Mustang’s eyes glued to the papers in front of him, Ed could admire freely.

As much as Ed knew his superior officer was handsome, he had somehow never noticed the insane degree of handsomeness. Or maybe this was new. Surely Ed couldn’t have missed the way Mustang’s hair complemented his eyes or the perfect arch of his cheekbones. His lips were full and looked capable of doing more pleasurable things than spewing political, social bullshit while his strong jawline begged to be traced.

His uniform was perfect – an oddity, considering he was at home – and the broad chest beneath it seemed more inviting than any bed Ed had ever laid on. Large biceps tapered down to gloved hands and elegant fingers, and Ed suddenly envied the papers exposed to that beautifully casual touch.

Without warning, obsidian eyes raised to meet golden, and the warmth in Ed’s chest brightened ten-fold. He didn’t even think about stopping the lazy smile from taking over his lips.

“Edward—”

Whatever Mustang had to say seemed to die on his lips, and Ed raised a brow as amusement danced into his eyes.

“Yeah, Roy?”

Ed couldn’t say which of them stilled faster.

_Roy?_

Why the fuck had he just called Mustang by his first name? He hadn’t even thought about it. The name just slipped out. Naturally. Like the man in question wasn’t a narcissistic asshole who lived to make Ed’s life more complicated than necessary.

“Brother?”

Ed swung around to see Al, and he noticed for the first time that he wasn’t in Mustang’s living room. He was in a hospital. But there was no reason for him to be—

_The promotion._

Memories of the speech and the fear and the chimeras rushed back with enough intensity to have Ed curling towards his knees and cradling his head in his hands. He remembered getting shot. He caught his shooter. Did his shooter stay caught? There were chimeras. Three of them. He encased everyone in diamond boxes and there was screaming. So much screaming. He felt weak, so he had to stop the bleeding.

How did he stop the bleeding?

Ed looked frantically to his chest to see it covered in fresh white bandages, but he could feel the wound beneath it.

Fire. He had used fire. Cauterized the wound and then there was a crash. One of the boxes? No, both of the remaining chimeras had been focused on him. A display case. It had been one of Mustang’s men. He had been outside of the boxes for some reason and—

“Falman. Is he okay?”

Ed looked desperately between Mustang and Al, both of whom stared solemnly back.

“He’s fine. You saved him.”

That was good then. Mustang sounded thankful. Proud. The unspoken praise made contented butterflies blossom in Ed’s chest, and it was through that unprecedented sense of happiness that Ed noticed the _wrongness_ of it all. He had always liked it when Mustang thought well of him, but it was an off-handed like. Something easy to brush aside and ignore.

Ed only took three seconds to examine himself: one to notice the sheer power thrumming through his system, one to connect that familiar power to Mustang, and one to come to the only conclusion that made sense.

Ed jerked himself away from Mustang as though he had been burned and practically fell into Alphonse’s arms as he went past the edge of the bed with no signs of stopping. His head felt dizzy with realization, his stomach was churning violently with truth, and his chest was still afloat with conflicting – _constricting_ – happiness.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

“Why the _fuck_ are we bonded?”

He felt Al’s hands on his shoulders like lead and pulled himself away from that, too.

“Brother, please calm down. I know this isn’t how you wanted it—”

“Not how I wanted it? It’s not a matter of how! It’s not even a matter of who! I didn’t want it at all!”

“Fullmetal—”

Mustang stood up slowly, as though he was afraid quick movements would set Ed off (and somehow Ed’s fear and fury stuttered for a moment to get lost in how devastatingly handsome the older man was before it all came crashing back) and Ed put a hand to his chest because he _couldn’t_ _breathe_.

“Brother!”

“Fullmetal!”

“We can’t be bonded. We can’t be...”

Ed trailed off as he pressed more heavily against his chest and felt the surgical scar in the middle of the burn. He silently begged for the discomfort to drag him from this nightmare but above the sharp pain was the nearness of Roy goddamn fucking Mustang, and the bliss of having him so close trumped all else. Like a plague.

“Brother, stop! You’re re-opening your wound!”

“ _Why are we bonded?”_

Ed was shouting – was shouting at Al – and he hated himself but he couldn’t trudge through the panic quickly enough to make himself stop.

“Because you were going to die!”

The anxiety rushing through Ed’s ears quieted to a deafening silence that allowed Ed to see the sorrow embedded in his brother’s expression.

“Your Core was shutting down. You didn’t—you didn’t have enough energy to keep yourself alive. If he didn’t bond with you then you were going to die, and I couldn’t let that happen.” Al swallowed thickly, tears painting his cheeks with two thin, parallel lines. “You’re all I have, remember? I can’t lose you.”

Ed knew the decision must have been a hard one and that he would have done the same thing had Al been the one leaning into death’s embrace. That didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

Mustang took a tentative step forward, and Ed flinched violently back. A deep-set pain flashed across Mustang’s face before it was hidden behind a calm mask, and Ed felt a knife carve itself into his chest cavity for being the one to hurt him.

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry for what though? For panicking? For disliking that he had been forced to bond? There was nothing to apologize for, and they must have known it too because they were looking at him with so much pity that he was surprised they weren’t drowning in it. He didn’t need – didn’t want – their pity, and redirected his apology to something he actually felt guilty about.

“Sorry for making you waste your bonding on me. It must have been...” Beautiful. Completing. Devastating. “hard.”

Ed couldn’t make himself look either man in the eyes and forced himself not to move away when Al approached him again.

“It’s not like that. You were his intended anyway. He isn’t—”

Ed’s eyes snapped to Mustang at the same moment that the Colonel shouted “Alphonse!” but it was too late.

“Fullmetal, I didn’t plan this. I wanted to bond with you, yes, but with your consent.”

Ed took deep breaths to stave off the panic clawing at the edges of his senses.

He had been dying. Bonding was the only way to save him. Al had asked Mustang to do it. Mustang agreed, but he had wanted to bond anyway.

Everyone got what they wanted but Ed.

“Why couldn’t you have just let me die?”

The words were out of his mouth before he knew he was saying them. Al froze next to him, so close that Ed could feel the way he trembled, but Ed refused to look away from Mustang.

They didn’t understand. Neither of them understood. Al had the bond-mate he had been pining after for the majority of his life and Mustang had always been able to bond with whoever he wanted. Now he had Ed, and the week of bliss would start and end quicker than he could blink, leaving Ed cold and alone with a bond that ached for him to crawl to Mustang’s feet and beg to be taken back.

“I need space. I need time to think.”

“Brother...”

“Please. Please, Al.”

Al looked like he was in pain but left anyhow. Mustang’s expression gave away nothing of what he felt, but Ed somehow knew that the man was being dragged down by the despair of it all.

Could bond-mates sense each other’s feelings?

Edward didn’t allow himself to think on it as the Colonel nodded and left. All he could worry about, at least for that moment, was himself, and he needed air.

The (stupid, god-fucking, useless) window didn’t open, and Ed wasted no time transmuting a hole in the wall. A fresh breeze flowed in, the chill of spring raising gooseflesh on his exposed arms, and Ed found he needed more. Somewhere open and clean. Somewhere without people to pity him or prod him or tell him how everything was going to be fine.

He jumped out of the hole in the wall and rolled to soften the landing, breaking out into a sprint less than a second afterwards. He didn’t know where he was going and he didn’t care. Thin hospital pants did nothing to protect him from the weather. The chill turned to a biting cold as he ran, but the crisp air filling his lungs only reinforced his need to keep moving.

When he finally slowed to a stop, he was somewhere in the woods. It would be miles back to town, no doubt, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Here, alone and able to sort out his feelings without that oppressive, bonding-induced happiness smothering his soul, he could breathe.

As long as he ignored the intense want to turn right back around and cuddle into Mustang’s side for comfort, it could even be considered pleasant.

He filled his lungs to the brim, enjoying the burn that always came with running too fast for too long, and screamed. It was angry and desperate and fulfilled no purpose other than to let Ed throw his sorrows to the wind. He screamed until his throat felt raw, and then he took his frustrations out on the nearest tree. He pounded the bark until bark gave way to pulp and pulp cracked and gave way to gravity. His flesh knuckles were bloody and raw, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he turned to the next tree.

Strong fingers curled around his wrist before he could land the first hit.

Ed tilted his head back to see who dared to stop his rampage and was genuinely surprised to see stormy grey eyes staring back.

“What do you want?”

“We’ve already had a quick spar. That leaves a good talk and a long fuck: your choice.”

Ed jerked his hand forward, but Greeling’s grip was unrelenting.

“I don’t want to talk and I’ll never want to fuck, so I guess you’re shit out of luck.”

“You’re bonded. Why?”

Ed scoffed at the irony of being asked that question, and the girth of his bitter grin made his cheeks hurt.

“What? You don’t buy us being madly in love?”

“I buy him being madly in love with you.”

“And me?”

“You look like you’d rather be dead.”

Ed’s smile dropped as he remembered the harsh words he had used to scald Al and Mustang. This time when he pulled his arm away, Greeling let him go.

“Yeah? Well, death apparently isn’t an option for me, so I guess that’s too bad.”

He reared a metal fist back to hit the tree only to have Greeling’s fingers encase his wrist once more. Greeling’s other arm wrapped around Ed’s waist, and he was pulled back against a broad chest. Soft breaths warmed the nape of his neck as Greeling touched his forehead to Ed’s hair.

“You’re re-opening your wound.”

“I don’t care.”

Ed made to struggle only to find that Greeling’s hold wasn’t something he could get out of. Days of not eating, intensive fights, over-using Core alchemy, running, and general stress were finally making themselves known, and after a few minutes of attempted thrashing, Ed allowed himself to relax into the strong yet gentle hold.

“Just un-bond with him.”

“It isn’t that simple.”

“Because you have Fire Cores.”

Ed attempted to tilt his head back and question how Greeling could possibly have known that, but the older man didn’t allow it. Seeing no way out of the conversation, he sighed and said, “Yeah. Because we have Fire Cores.”

“What if I told you there’s a way?”

“A way to un-bond? You said it yourself. We can’t—”

“But what if you could?”

This time when Ed made to turn his head, Greeling let him. Stormy grey eyes, normally crackling with mirth, were serious.

“Tell me.”

“Not here. I’ll tell you at my house, where it’s safe. We’ll get you food and re-bandage your wounds, and then we’ll talk.”

Ed’s upper lip curled in a snarl. He could practically hear Mustang’s voice in the back of his head telling him not to be so trusting, and it made his need for information take a cautious step back.

“What makes you think I want to be alone in a house with you?”

All too suddenly, Greeling released him and took a step back, leaving Ed to fumble for balance.

“I won’t do anything to you that you don’t want done.”

Greeling offered a hand, much like he had when asking Ed to dance, and against all common sense, Ed accepted.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Greeling’s house was just as ostentatious and gaudy as Ed remembered it being. He was led through a series of unfamiliar hallways before reaching a large, intricately carved door.

If Ed had any doubts about whose bedroom it was upon entering, they were put to rest when Greeling opened his second closet to show off way too many sets of relaxing clothes. Sweatpants, T-shirts, basketball shorts, cut-offs: he had them all, and he had them in spades.

“Pick whatever you like, but don’t bother putting it on until we’ve changed your bandages.” At Ed’s odd look he added, “Unless you like thin, scratchy pants and showing off your abs? I’m not going to complain either way.”

“How did you find me?”

Greeling hummed in lazy question.

“In the woods. I didn’t even know where I was going and have no clue where the hell I ended up. So how did you find me?”

“I followed you.”

“From _where_?”

“The hospital. All of your sweetsie pals were so busy holding your hand that they completely ignored any outside threats. I know Brad, and he doesn’t have any qualms with kicking a guy while he’s down.” Greeling paused for a second, lips pursing in thought. “Not that I’ve got room to talk, mind you. Takes one to know one, I guess.”

He shrugged uncaringly, and Ed found himself respecting that brash honesty.

“Brad ever show up?”

“Once, but Roy-boy was right behind him, so I let it be.”

Ed nodded and muttered a quick “Thanks” which Greeling didn’t acknowledge. Ed was thankful for that, too. Greeling then made his way back toward the hallway without glancing in Ed’s direction, and Ed’s heart did an awkward backflip that felt too close to the fear of being left alone for his comfort.

“Where are you going?”

“To get a first aid kit and some food. I assume you don’t mind leftovers?”

“What? No personal chef?”

Greeling’s lips quirked in a sardonic grin.

“Believe it or not, I’m not a fan of strangers wandering freely through my home.”

He was gone before Ed could ask anything else.

The room, while far from bare, wasn’t quite as lavish as the rest of the house. The bed was large and the pillows looked like they could be made of clouds, but the blankets were a dull brown. The walls were a muted blue and empty aside from a single oil painting of a cherry blossom tree on a hill. The lighting was dim, and as much as Ed found the rest of the house distasteful, this room was comfortable.

Ed perused through Greeling’s closet with little to no real interest, eventually settling on a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants. Seeing as there were no wounds on the lower half of his body, Edward went ahead and changed into the pants. They were luxuriously soft, probably the softest thing he’d ever worn, with a thick inner lining that the cool spring air would have a hell of a time getting through. Ed didn’t even mind the way the pants’ legs draped over his feet like too-long curtains. They were just so _comfy_.

Greeling re-entered the room with an armful of medical supplies and a plate of what looked like steak, mashed potatoes, and asparagus.

“I like mine rare, but re-heating it made it medium.”

He handed the plate to Ed, who wasted no time digging in. And dear sweet god, it was good. Could everyone cook but him?

Greeling watched him eat with a large, arrogant grin.

“I take it you like it?”

Ed swallowed with another forkful of steak halfway to his mouth, barely managing to pause and say “Being a good cook doesn’t make you less of an asshole.”

Greeling’s grin stretched to show the amusement he found in Edward’s particular brand of course humor, but he didn’t say anything until Ed’s plate was empty and on the nightstand.

“You know, I heard you had an appetite to suit an army, but that was astounding. Where does it go?”

Ed shrugged.

“I work out a lot. And it’s only a theory, but I’m pretty sure Core strength is positively correlated with metabolism. Cores give us power and take stamina to use. It only makes sense that the use of our Cores draws off of calories like any other action. More powerful Cores burn more calories.”

“And you’ve got a hell of a powerful Core.”

Ed shrugged again, but the question was rhetorical so it didn’t much matter.

“What are the chances I can get some more of that?”

“One hundred percent, after we change your dressings.”

Ed lifted his arms to parallel the bed the moment he heard he could have more food, and Greeling went straight to cutting off the bandages. Once Ed was free, Greeling traced his newest scars. First he touched the lines from the original chimera attack, then trailed over the little punctures Ed assumed were teeth marks, next ghosted over his burn and bullet wound, and finally pressed a full hand to Ed’s abs.

“You going re-bandage me or was this just a ploy to feel me up?”

“Why can’t it be both?”

Ed scoffed but let the older man do as he pleased. After what felt like a rather thorough examination of his torso, automail included, Greeling picked up a wet washcloth and started wiping away the blood and old medicine. Despite Greeling’s rough demeanor and general disregard for the worth of a life, his touch was gentle.

Maybe it was because he knew it would piss Mustang off or maybe he just wanted someone to touch him without dangling a bond – literal or familial or otherwise – over his head, but Ed’s ever-racing, stress-addled mind lulled as he allowed himself to just enjoy the feeling of being taken care of.

When Greeling started applying god-only-knew-what medication, he was strictly professional, and that didn’t fade when he moved on to the bandaging. Ed waited for the running commentary on how good he looked in the other man’s clothes or how being able to feel Ed up made the whole injury part worth it, but it never came. By the time Greeling tied off the dressings for both his chest and newly injured fist, and Ed slipped the too-long, too-wide shirt over his head, he was halfway to concerned.

“You okay there?”

“Asks the bleeding boy.”

Ed scoffed good-naturedly.

“Where are your smart remarks about how you’ve finally got me in your bed?”

“You want that?”

“I want people to stop treating me like I’m going to break any fucking second.”

“You think that’s how I’m looking at you?” Greeling’s brows rose to his hairline while his grin widened enough to make teeth shine like fangs. “I don’t think you’re _breakable_. I think you’re _invincible_. I think it doesn’t matter what I do to you because you’ll find a way to bounce back better than you were before. The only reason I’m not asking you to bed with me is because I like my lovers to pass out from exhaustion, not blood loss.”

Ed ignored the crude insinuation that somehow made him feel more comfortable instead of less.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. What makes you think I’m invincible?”

“Lots of things. You freely spending your accumulated hero points to help others, for one.”

“The fuck are hero points?”

“All that good karma shit adds up. For most people, their biggest hero points come from holding the door open for someone and patting sad people on the back when they need it. For you, it’s saving lives. Hero points are meant to make your life better, yet you go and use them up on strangers. It’s no wonder your life sucks.”

Ed’s lips tugged unamusedly downwards.

“So what? You want me to use them on you instead? And how the fuck would you even do that – direct your karma?” Ed’s brows scrunched as he tried to discern whether hero points were metaphorical or not. “What do you do with your hero points?”

Greeling barked out a laugh.

“I don’t have any hero points.”

“Is that why you’re here then? Is that why you stood guard at the hospital and why you’re sitting across from me, patting me on the back?”

“Course not. I’ve got too many villain points to ever do enough good to accumulate hero points.”

Ed rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of Greeling’s explanation and asked, “Then why?”

“Because you’re interesting, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been genuinely interested in anything. Besides,” Greeling leaned back languidly, practically oozing arrogance, “you need me.”

Ed’s face twisted in a fierce snarl.

“Like hell I do.”

Greeling’s responding laughter was obnoxiously condescending.

“You've been forcibly to bond to someone you barely considered an ally, and you’re convinced it’s permanent. You just had one of the most important decisions of your life ripped out from under you, and you can’t even whine to the people closest to you because they’re responsible for it.”

“How do you—”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Ed stopped to assess Greeling more seriously, for once looking past the wild, adrenaline-seeking light whirling through stormy grey eyes to examine the sharp intelligence ready to pierce anyone or anything within range.

It was that intelligence – the invasive, unrelenting, familiar intelligence – that made Ed cave.

“It was supposed to be my choice. The one thing that no one could take from me because it could never affect anyone else. It was mine.”

“And now it isn’t.”

Ed stared into grey eyes and watched the way Greeling watched him back. He was soaking in the information Ed gave him strictly for information’s sake. To solve the puzzle.

“Now it isn’t.” Ed nodded. “They’re going to expect me to go back there and attempt a relationship with Mustang, and maybe not today or tomorrow or even this year, but some day he’s going to expect me to tell him that I love him. That I want to be with him forever. Fuck. I don’t even know if I’m capable of loving someone like that. Friends, yeah. Family. But romantically? How can I...”

Ed curled his fingers into his bangs as he tried to find a way to phrase the turmoil he felt. Greeling saved him the trouble without ever breaking his hungry, obsessive stare.

“How can you promise them a world of tomorrows when you aren’t even sure you’ll make it through today?”

“Exactly.”

Greeling got close enough for Ed to feel hot breath against his lips.

“You’re a hypocrite.”

“ _What?”_

“You’re terrified that someone’s going to ask for undying love from your always-ready-to-die heart, so you run away, yet that’s exactly what you want in return.”

“I’m not asking for anyone’s undying love.”

Greeling’s grin was unforgiving as he leaned back.

“You’re a shit liar, too. If you didn’t want monogamous love and unquestionable devotion, we’d have fucked by now.”

Ed snorted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“That’s the basis for your claim? The fact that we haven’t fucked?”

“You think I’d be a bad partner?”

“No.”

“You find me unattractive?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Ed opened his mouth only for the words _You could never love me_ to die before coming to fruition. He turned to stare at the wall instead.

“What? So I’m doomed to be alone because I want love that I can’t give?”

Silence stretched between them for too long to be considered natural, and Ed turned back to find Greeling observing him with (impossibly) more interest than before.

“No. I think you’re doomed to torture yourself until you either admit that love doesn’t have to be forever or accept that taking comfort in a like-minded, warm body is a fine way to go about life.”

“And what? You’ll be the best option no matter what path I choose?”

This time it was Greeling who scoffed.

“No. I can’t love you. All I can do is learn how to make your body come undone in the most pleasurable way possible and proceed to do it over and over again until all the bad things melt into the background. Good talks. Quick spars. Long fucks. They’re all I’m good for.”

There was a certain emptiness in Greeling’s voice that said he wasn’t happy with the truth he was spouting. Ed reached forward to grab a handful of shirt and yank Greeling down to eye-level.

“That’s bullshit, and all you believing it does is make you a fucking idiot. Not being able to love people doesn’t reduce you to a fun night out. It just means you can’t love people.”

At that point, Ed wasn’t sure which one of them he was defending. Greeling seemed to figure it out easily enough as his gaze softened into something fonder and he maneuvered his way out of Ed’s grasp.

“I’m going to go make more food. You’re going to stay in bed. When I come back, I’ll explain how to un-bond.”

And maybe _that_ was why Ed felt comfortable around Greeling when he couldn’t stand the touch of his beloved brother. He had a habit of making friends out of good people, and every one of those people would have been pitying and sympathetic to his plight while telling him that he was wrong. That he could love someone; he just hadn’t yet.

Greeling, a self-centered, murdering, avaricious beast, just accepted his words and face value and moved on. He didn’t care for the righteous, love-conquers-all morals that everyone else in Ed’s life seemed to live by, and that meant he could understand why Ed couldn’t measure up to that heavy, all-or-nothing thought process.

It was okay to be incapable of falling in love.

Greeling stood and got halfway to the door before Ed said, “I don’t buy that bullshit about you being stocked up on villain points, you know. If there are hero points and villain points, there have to be neutral points, too. Sure, yours are probably chaotic fucking neutral, but they’re still neutral. You aren’t a bad guy.”

Greeling hesitated for only a moment before tossing a dangerous grin over his shoulder and departing with a simple “We’ll see about that.”


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

It took Ed all of seven minutes to get bored and start wandering the halls. He took another seven minutes to figure out where the kitchen was, and he only successfully made it because he followed his nose.

“I thought I said to stay in bed.”

Ed’s brows rose in faux bewilderment.

“Did you? I must have missed that part.”

Greeling scoffed but made no attempt to force Ed back to the room.

“I don’t know what your doctors said, but I watched you take one hell of a beating. It’s a miracle you made it as far as you did today, and you’re pushing your luck to go farther.”

Ed ignored the ache of exhaustion that had seeped into his bones shortly after the panic-induced adrenaline rush had worn off and sneered.

“I’m fine. Most of their attacks didn’t hurt, anyway.”

“How’s that?”

“Took a page out of your book and transmuted my skin into diamond. The only reason I’m hurt at all – other than the damn bullet wound – is because it got awkward to hold up near the end.”

Ed peered around Greeling’s shoulder to see what smelled so good and missed the look of dumbfounded amazement the older man couldn’t hold back.

“You were made of diamond?”

“Not exactly. Humans are carbon-based lifeforms and diamonds are pretty much nothing but carbon, but I can’t just take all of my carbon, use it somewhere else, and expect to be okay. I was able to make a thin layer coating my entire body, thicker around the organs and even thicker than that around the vitals. It’s probably why that bullet didn’t floor me and leave me there.”

Ed didn’t expect much of a reaction to his makeshift armor considering it was Greeling who gave him the idea in the first place, but the offhanded “God, you’re hot.” still threw him for a loop.

“What? Did you not think I’d be able to do it?”

Silence permeated the kitchen before Greeling finally responded with a half-evasive, “I use graphene, not diamond.”

Ed’s brows rose again, mind racing with possibilities.

“Damn. I didn’t even think about graphene. Makes sense though; it’s much tougher than diamond and that hexagonal shape has got to be easier to hold.”

Ed hummed thoughtfully as he tried to imagine the exact transmutation circle necessary to make graphene armor out of skin. He came up with at least twenty runes and six different Latin phrasings by the time Greeling plated the food, put the food on the table, and snapped his fingers in front of Ed’s face to bring him back to reality.

“I’m beginning to think the only shocking thing is that you haven’t been sniped before this. You’re practically cata-fucking-tonic when you start musing like that.”

Ed shrugged and started eating. He had always been able to sense danger especially well, and that didn’t change when he was lost in his research.

Greeling ate at a much slower pace, seeming content just to watch the catastrophe of Ed’s table manners in play.

“So, what do you know about my family?”

“You’re all assholes. I thought this talk was going to be about me un-bonding.”

“It will be. What else do you know about them?”

Ed shot Greeling an irritated look which only succeeded in widening his darkly pleased grin.

“Brad’s a power whore that makes narcissists looks like they hate themselves. He has a wife and a kid. Wife seems okay. Kid looks like he’s permanently pissed off, but I would be, too, if I had to see Brad every night. Lust is a bitch who can’t focus on anything for more than a day at a time, and she likes reactions and fall-outs more than whatever it is she actually did. Envy was… he was a jerk.” Ed glanced at Greeling to see a distinct lack of remorse at the mention of his brother and moved on. “I’ve never met your other siblings, so I don’t have an opinion on them.”

“Right. So basically, you don’t know shit.”

Greeling sipped at his wine while probably awaiting a fierce rebuttal, but Ed only shrugged and tipped his chair to balance on its back legs, resting his bare feet on the table in the process.

“What can I say? I never found you guys all that interesting.”

“I don’t know whether that makes you stupid or brave, but we’ll have to start with the basics either way. I have five siblings—”

“I thought there were seven of you. That’s the whole fucking reason I started naming you after the seven deadly sins.”

Ed frowned, unhappy about the wrench that had just been thrown into his clever nicknaming agenda, and Greeling’s grin gained some genuine amusement.

“That’s what Brad wants you to think. There are only six of us. He forged the paperwork and backstory for a seventh in case he ever needed to go on the run but keep connections with his more powerful lackeys.”

Ed stared at a spot above Greeling’s head as he tried to comprehend how the most famous mug in Amestris could possibly pretend to be someone else, and Greeling must have noticed because he continued with, “There are structural alchemists for buildings, and there are structural alchemists for people. Changing your looks isn’t difficult with the right connections.”

“Alright, so Brad has an escape plan. What else?”

“My sisters are Trisha and Solaris. My brothers are Envy, Brad, and Gordon. Tell me, how old do you think I am?”

“Twenty-five.”

Greeling’s teeth parted in a silent, mocking laugh.

“Older.”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Older than that.”

“Twenty-eight is the highest I’ll go, and that’s pushing it.”

This time, he really did laugh.

“You were almost right. Try eighty-two.”

Ed shot Greeling an incredulous look, but Greeling’s unwavering grin and general distaste for lying said he should listen before discrediting. Unfortunately, “How the fuck are you eighty-two?” was the closest Ed could get to being open-minded.

“What Core do you think I have?”

“How. The fuck. Are you eighty-two?”

“Answer my question first.”

Ed’s eyes narrowed to an irate glare as he said “Activation Steel.”

“I think my favorite part of this conversation is watching you be wrong.”

Ed rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you get off on me making mistakes. I got it. Now tie all the random facts you just spouted together in a pretty bow that lets me un-bond, or I’m out.”

“I’ll make sure to enjoy the view of your ass as you go.”

Ed wouldn’t seriously leave before getting his sought-after information, and they both knew it. That left him the option of huffing and slouching further into his seat. After at least a full minute of just watching Greeling’s shit-eating grin, Ed got his answers.

“I’m one of the older Homunculi siblings, second only to Brad. He’s one hundred and two. And yes, our parents did wait way too fucking long between child one and child two. We grew up in a big city, and our parents were never there. Brad decided that he, as the oldest, had to be in charge. That was his first power trip. Solely because he’s fucked up in the head, he got obsessed with the feeling of having power over others – being powerful – and started to seek out ultimate power.

“With his quest for ultimate power came the quest for immortality because how ultimate can power be if it can come to an end? When he turned forty-seven, he found the Gate, which led him to immortality and, in turn, power. Unfortunately, everything comes at a cost.”

“Equivalent exchange. What the hell could he have exchanged for immortality and ultimate power?”

“His soul. He traded his Water Core for a Shadow Core. The Shadow Core gave him ever-lasting life, a distinct, powerful ability, and an immunity to sickness, natural or otherwise.”

“You’re saying he can’t be poisoned?”

“I’m saying you should shut up and listen to me.”

Ed frowned but stayed silent.

“While the ups of a Shadow Core are great, the downs are equally as bad. There are two ideals in everyone’s life that they embody: one good, and one bad. Shadow Cores take that bad ideal and make it the center of your being. Everything you do, everything you are, everything you think suddenly revolves around that insatiable ideal, and it _hurts_. It’s a hunger that can never be fulfilled and an ache that can only be momentarily placated, never soothed.

“The fun part about the Shadow Core is that misery loves company. Brad made the original deal with the Gate, so he had to give up his soul. In doing such, he gained the ability to convert one other Core to a Shadow Core without them having to pay the ultimate price. All the perks and all the pitfalls of a Shadow Core while keeping the soul intact. Muted, but intact. The more fun part is that Brad didn’t know about the only-one-conversion limit when he used it on Solaris.

“He tried to give Envy a Shadow Core directly afterwards only to find that it hurt it a way it shouldn’t have and stopped. Luckily or unluckily one, Solaris gained the ability to convert one other person, too. She converted Gordon, who converted Envy, who converted Trisha, who converted me. You with me so far?”

Ed nodded, a million questions swimming through his head but none of them pertinent enough to interrupt.

“Years go by. Brad practices politics, makes connections, fakes his death, and starts over again. Claws his way to Führer to make sure everyone knows just how glorious and powerful he is. He lets me use his lackeys as I please in exchange for not screwing him over at every turn, and the rest of my siblings are either bored or sheep, so they follow along without protest.

“That brings us to twenty-two years ago. Brad’s got a public persona that shows off a little too much of his solitude, so he gets a wife. She’s nothing special; just a pretty face and unshakable obedience. A year after that, they get pregnant. A year after _that_ , they have a kid, Selim. That’s where he went wrong.

“To understand this, you first have to realize that your instincts are spot-on. Like scary good. Your little nicknames for us are what we ended up embodying after our conversions. I’m Greed. Solaris is Lust. Brad is Pride. That insane amount of Pride is what made him convert his entire family – as anyone related to him, raised by him, had to be worthwhile allies – and it’s what doubled and then tripled in size when focused in on that damnable kid. His _progeny_.

“Unfortunately, it looks like people without souls can’t make babies with souls, and that kid is _cold_. Selim knew something was different about Brad, took notice of the way he never seemed to get any older, and played to his daddy’s over-inflated ego until he finally got the truth. As soon as he knew, he was incessant about getting a Shadow Core of his own. He wanted what his father had and insisted that he could never follow in Brad’s stead without that likeness.

“Brad begged me to convert his son. He offered me the world on a golden platter. I liked seeing him on his knees more than I wanted extra things, so I said no. That’s when Brad slipped up. He convinced himself the reason we can only convert one person was because it’s too painful to convert another, and he _prided_ himself on being able to work through the pain. He converted Selim.

“Thing is, neither one of them thought past the wild power of Shadow Cores enough to care about the consequences. Selim got stuck in a ten-year-old’s body for the rest of eternity, and he’s plenty pissed off about it. Not ironically, either, seeing as he embodies Wrath.

“Brad found out the reason you can only convert one person is that there isn’t enough power in a Shadow core to give to a second. He started aging again. That led him back to the Gate, which laughed in his face and sent him on a wild goose chase for the philosopher’s stone – the only thing currently capable of restoring him to his prime and ceasing the aging process.”

Greeling paused long enough for Ed to realize this was his chance to ask questions.

“When you say immortal, what do you mean?”

“We don’t age and can’t fall sick or be poisoned. We don’t need to eat or drink to live. We heal at exponential rates, and the only way to end our lives is to physically damage us beyond repair. Cut off our heads. Disembowel us. Stab us through the heart.”

Ed looked away at the last one and missed Greeling’s responding grin.

“But you’ve each got powers that help you avoid things like that?”

“We do. I’m the ultimate shield. I can turn my body to graphene at will and nothing can pierce me. Not without someone else using alchemy to turn me back, anyways.” Greeling’s grin was a taunt, and Ed sneered to hide the pang of guilt. “Envy could shape-shift. Solaris’ fingers can be lances. Gordon’s saliva is acid. Trisha is naturally better at basically everything and is even stronger and faster than the rest of us – don’t worry, she’s Sloth. Selim can control shadows to do his bidding. He can’t make them physically harm someone, but they make for nasty spies. Fortunately, he can only control them when he’s focusing and can only have them in one place at a time, so distract him and you’re safe.

“Brad has the ultimate eye. If he takes off his eye patch, he’ll be able to predict your movements before you make them and act accordingly. Age has taken its toll on him, so there’s a chance if you act fast enough, you can out-maneuver him. It doesn’t matter if he knows what you’re going to do as long as he doesn’t have the time or room to counter it. That being said, he’s fit. He’s fast and strong and the things he can do with a sword almost make me want to keep my armor up at all points in time.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Have you seen my face? Brad isn’t a good enough reason to let these handsome features go to waste.”

Greeling leaned back to preen, and Ed rolled his eyes yet again.

“Are there other side-effects of having a Shadow Core?”

“A few. We can see Cores, for one. Or feel them, I guess. We know when someone has a Core, what it is, and can even tell when something changes if we bother to pay attention.”

“That’s how you knew I have a Fire Core.”

“It is.”

“Is that also how you knew I was bonded?”

Greeling nodded boredly.

“Shit! That means Brad has known all along! And him visiting me in the hospital means he already knows Mustang and I bonded! Fuck!”

“Fuck indeed. That’s why Brad sent Solaris into the academy – having two potentially mutinous, un-bonded Fire Cores sharing an unmonitored classroom didn’t strike his fancy. I entered because I wanted to see what made Brad wary enough to send in Solaris.”

“And Envy?”

“Envy had his eye on you for ages. You’re the essence of everything we aren’t, and that made him, well, envious. Somewhere along the way, wanting what you represent turned into wanting you, and I guess he was trying to scope you out before moving in. He even asked me to convert you a few times. I said no, of course.”

Ed deadpanned, “Of course.” as he ignored the discomfort of having so many people watching him without his knowledge.

“Shadow Cores also take away the ability to do alchemy and allow you to bond with nearly anyone, regardless of Energy or Activation affiliation.”

“Nearly?”

“We can’t bond with Fire Cores.” Greeling paused for a minute to let that sink in, and when Ed’s lips parted in soundless understanding, he continued. “That’s why Envy wanted me to change you. He didn’t figure he had a chance on his own and thought you’d readily bond with him if he became one of the only people who could possibly understand how you felt.”

“And that’s what you’re offering me now, too.” It wasn’t a question, though Greeling nodded. “Shadow Cores and Fire Cores can’t be bonded, so converting my Core to a Shadow Core would break the bond I have with Mustang. And then what? I bond with you because no one else will understand my predicament?”

Greeling guffawed.

“I’m not telling you to bond with me. I’m just letting you know how to un-bond with him.”

“Why though? Why me? Why now?”

“Because I’m _Greed_. I want everything, all for myself. Shadow Cores basically make us invincible, and I don’t want to share that.”

“Then why—”

“Because you’re _already_ invincible. All giving you a Shadow Core means for me is that I’d have someone interesting to whittle away eternity with.”

“I...”

But Ed didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t particularly interested in eternal life and would normally scoff at the thought of ultimate power, but his loved ones weren’t generally in perpetual danger. On one hand, he didn’t want the power for himself and he doubted un-bonding with Mustang was really worth the extensive list of drawbacks. But if that power would help keep his family safe, did he have a right to refuse?

Would gaining that power even matter if he lost the ability to do alchemy: the crux of his fighting style?

“I need time to think.”

“I figured as much. Only an idiot would accept a deal from the devil without first weighing the pros and cons.”

Greeling shrugged uncaringly, but there was a certain anticipation in his stance that said he had been waiting to do this for longer than he was letting on. Instead of commenting on any of the mind-numbing information he had just received, Ed gave a non-committal, “I should be getting back to Al soon. He’s probably pacing a hole in the floor by now.”

Greeling nodded, but the mirth dancing in his eyes was a blatant give-away to what he really thought of Ed’s excuse.

“I’ll get the keys.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Gerard found that the more he was around Ed, the more he liked him. More than fucking, he wanted to watch that brilliant mind work and enjoy the quick-witted, caustic replies Ed seemed to have for everything. He wanted to be around Ed, listen to Ed, touch Ed, and any other action involving Ed physically possible.

He was not, however, romantically interested in the man.

The blonde was still too innocent to see that sex and romance were oceans apart, which was unfortunate, but he cared (or something like that) enough about Gerard to look past what he assumed was romantic intent. That, in and of itself, was more than Gerard had originally hoped for.

Ed was kind and self-sacrificing to everyone. Gerard wanted to be special. So he let Ed think whatever he wanted to think regarding Gerard’s ever-ambiguous-intentions.

That, and he really liked pissing Mustang off.

The second of those reasons was what spurred Gerard to pause by the phone on the way to grab his keys.

It rang twice before, “Colonel Mustang speaking.”

“Roy-boy! So nice to hear from you again!”

Gerard leaned lazily against the wall and examined his nails as he listened to the dangerous silence on the other end.

“Gerard.”

“I was just calling to let you know you can stop scouring the city. Ed is safe.”

“He’s with you?”

The alarm beneath Mustang’s calm tone made Gerard’s grin turn giddy.

“Oh, yeah. Has been ever since he ditched out on the hospital.”

“He came to _you_?”

“We found each other. And we’re about to find you, too. I’m going to drop him off at the Hughes’ house within the hour. You and anyone else who wants to check him over and make sure the bites I took out of him only left love marks should be there.”

“If you hurt him—”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t do anything he didn’t want done.”

Gerard hung up before Mustang could respond.

Ed glared when he returned, probably distrusting the self-satisfied look painting Gerard’s face, but didn’t say anything. Gerard filled the silence by humming a tune he vaguely remembered hearing in his younger years. Seeing as Ed had no urge to speak, he kept humming until the Hughes’ household was in view. Mustang and Al both stood impatiently on the porch, and Greeling’s grin took a mischievous turn as he came to a stop paralleling the house.

Ed looked at him with a soft expression, and Gerard waited patiently for an awkward ‘thank you.’ What he got instead was, “You’re never getting these pants back, you know.”

Gerard couldn’t have stopped himself from laughing if he had tried, and he wondered how long it had been since he had laughed hard enough for it to hurt. Apparently his laughter was unwelcome because Ed’s frown turned sour and he said, “I’m fucking serious. These are the most comfortable things I’ve ever worn, and I’m not giving the back.”

Gerard’s grin was wide enough to ache.

“Keep them. I have more. I’ll even go buy a pair in your size, if you like them so much.”

“No thanks.”

The response was quick, but the flash of want through golden eyes was quicker. Ed opened the door and made to leave before Gerard could give a rebuttal.

“Hold up. There’s one more thing.”

Ed paused, feet already touching pavement, and turned back to Gerard. He parted his lips to speak, and Gerard beat him to the punch by leaning forward and closing the space between them. Excited butterflies erupted in his chest, and the feeling was only magnified by the intensely jealous glare Mustang was burning him with.

Gerard pulled back before Ed could react and shoved the blonde the rest of the way out of the car.

“Bye now.”

He used a drastic increase in velocity to slam Ed’s door shut and sped off to find something else to amuse him for the next few hours.

He doubted Brad would wait any longer than that.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed cursed Greeling for thirty seconds straight for kissing him – especially in front of Al and Mustang – but the truth was he was thankful for it. That kiss gave him a reason to pause and steel himself against the seductive pull of Mustang’s Core. It allowed him just enough time to remind himself to act normal, and it gave him adequate reason to pause when he turned around; a reason that could _not_ be traced back to the way his heart stuttered into his throat at the sight of Mustang.

Had the man gotten more attractive _again_?

Ed’s Core begged him to run into Mustang’s arms, and Ed took the safer route of scratching the back of his head and walking the fifty feet to Al.

“Sorry for running off like that. It was pretty uncool of—”

Al cut Ed off with a fierce hug.

“It’s fine! You’re fine. I’m the one who should be sorry. We didn’t have the right to make the call on your bonding. I was just panicking and—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Ed tightened his grip on Al as he felt the younger man’s body begin to tremble. “ _I_ was panicking. I’m glad you did what you did, and I’m sorry for what I said.” Ed paused and made eye contact with Mustang over Al’s shoulder. “You made the right call.”

Mustang’s expression didn’t change, but tense shoulders relaxed.

Al’s hug tightened to an almost crushing extent, and Ed felt a few relieved tears wetting his shirt. Ed ran a flesh hand up and down Al’s back, cursing himself for ever turning his devil temper on his angelic little brother.

When Al recovered himself enough to pull away, he was smiling.

“Everyone’s waiting for us inside.”

Before Ed could take a step forward, Mustang said, “Could I speak to you alone for a moment?”

Everything about the question was stiff and political, and Ed realized with an internal cringe that Mustang was trying just as desperately to act normal as he was.

Al gave Ed a questioning look, to which Ed awkwardly shifted his weight and nodded.

“I’ll meet you inside, okay?”

“Alright.”

Ed noticed a guilty tension in the way Al glanced at Mustang before going inside but chose not to comment.

After a long, half-solemn pause, Mustang said, “Alphonse was correct when he said you were my intended.”

And that was it. Ed waited for more, but when more never came, he scoffed.

“And what am I now? Your arm-candy? Fling of the week? A new pawn in your rise to power?”

“No! You’re none of those things! I wanted to bond with you, and—”

“And what? That’s supposed to make it all better? Now that you got what you wanted, our happy life together can start its spiral towards you wanting multiple bed partners and me wanting to kick your ass. Hurray.”

“Fullmetal, it’s not… I didn’t...” Mustang lifted frustrated eyes towards the sky as he ran a hand through already tousled black locks. “Why do you always have to be so damn irritating? I wanted to have a civil discussion without jumping to conclusions or tearing at each other’s throats. Is that so hard?”

“With you it is.”

“Damn it, Edward. Can’t you just listen for once?”

“I was listening! You weren’t talking!”

“Well I’m talking now.” Mustang’s stare was harsh, and Ed relaxed into the familiarity of their banter. “You were my intended, yes, but I never wanted to bond with you like this. I wanted it to be consensual, at minimum. Hell, I wanted _you_ to ask _me_.”

Mustang cursed and turned to stare unseeingly at the road.

“None of that matters though. What I wanted to say is that if you don’t want this, then I don’t want it, either. Just say the word and we’ll go back to the way we were before.”

“Before bonding?”

“Before Armstrong’s class. You go back to the dorms, our meetings become strictly business, and we pretend this never happened. No one has to know.”

Ed stared incredulously at Mustang, who refused to look away from the road. His lips were pulled into a hard line as he waited for Ed’s response, but Ed didn’t know how to respond.

Not only had he not expected to get such a generous offer – knowing what Mustang had given up for him and the high hopes the man had for their future together – he hadn’t expected Mustang to look so grave. It was clear what the Colonel thought he would choose.

Ed’s lips parted shakily as he realized what he was about to ask, and the fear of being vulnerable made his breath hitch in his throat.

“Do you feel it? This… _connection_?” When Mustang’s only response was to look at him, Ed forced himself to continue. “It hurts to be away from you.”

Mustang’s impenetrable, political facade broke down to show a look of pained longing that Ed never imagined would be directed at him.

“ _Yes.”_

Just like that, the conflicting part of their bond seemed to vanish. Ed held out his flesh hand with an unsure frown on his face.

“I’ll think about it.”

Mustang stared at Ed’s offered hand as though he wasn’t entirely sure Ed wouldn’t pull away at the last second, and Ed waited patiently for the Colonel to concede.

“I know I don’t have a right to ask this, but do you like Gerard?”

“Of course I like him. Despite what you like to think, he’s different from his psycho family.”

Mustang pinned Ed with a hard stare that said he was missing something, and Ed took a shameful amount of time to catch on.

“Oh! Shit, you mean romantically? No.”

“Then why did you let him kiss you?”

“Because I didn’t know he was going to do it!”

Mustang took a moment to look both exasperated and reassured while Ed wondered how much longer he could keep his hand outstretched before it became awkward.

Then the Colonel reached forward.

When their hands met, they both sighed at the intense relief of it. Mustang’s fingers twined with Edward’s, and Ed found himself leaning further into the Colonel’s side.

“Our relationship is fucked, isn’t it?”

Mustang’s response was a deep, sardonic chuckle that sent pleasant shivers up Ed’s spine, and the blonde hid a smile as he pulled away to head inside.

**(***Intertwined***)**

“I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I hate doctors.”

The doctor – the same woman who had checked him over after his days of interrogation – sighed.

“I’m not your biggest fan either, Lt. Colonel Elric. If you could please just hold still, this can be over very quickly.”

Ed scrunched his brows at the title, having completely spaced on the fact that he had, in all the chaos, accepted his promotion.

“I don’t need to get checked though. I’m fine.”

“You broke out of the hospital and took off to god-knows-where. Your bandages are likely ruined and you no doubt need new medication.”

Ed scowled and lifted up his shirt to show off pristine bandages.

“Greeling already fixed them. I’m fine.”

“Lieutenant Colonel—”

“Just Ed.”

“—you’re quite honestly one of the most reckless men I’ve ever met. I highly doubt you’re going to get through these injuries without someone constantly checking on them and refitting your dressings. You may as well get used to me.”

“No thanks. I’ve got plenty of non-doctors who are willing to do that for me.”

Ed motioned to his chest with his bandaged hand to emphasize his point, and she huffed as she got close enough to examine him. After a full minute, she reluctantly said, “These are actually very well done.”

“Exactly. And you know Maes knows his way around a first-aid kit, and I’m sure Mustang has plenty of experience dealing with burn wounds. So leave me alone.”

The doctor tossed an exasperated, pleading look at Maes, who smiled gently and motioned that she could leave.

“So where’s—”

High pitched giggles cut Ed off, and he found himself smiling despite everything life had thrown at him the past few days. Elicia ran happily into the room with Gracia on her heels.

“Hey, El.”

Ed reached forward, and both the giggling and running came to an abrupt halt. Elicia stared at him for half of a second before hiding behind Gracia, and Ed tried hard not to let the pain he felt show through.

“Go away!”

“El, what are you—”

“I said go away! I don’t want you here!”

Ed’s smile wavered as he felt anxiety bunch up in his chest. He quickly looked to Maes and Gracia for some clue as to what was going on, but they could only offer him consoling glances.

Slowly, he forced himself to ask “Why don’t you want me here?”

“Because you’re scary! Go away!”

“Elicia!” Gracia chided, but Elicia only shook her head, still refusing to look at Edward.

“He’s the one who told me to trust people ‘cause of what I see and hear and feel, and I saw him do bad things! Scary things!” Beautiful, watery eyes looked straight at Ed as Elicia drove her opinion home with a fearful, “You’re a killer!”

Ed barely heard Maes’ and Gracia’s berating responses over the blood rushing through his ears. What he did hear was “No! No, it’s not fair! He’s bad, and I don’t want anything to do with him!”

Elicia yanked her necklace off over her head and held it out to Ed, who stared unseeingly back.

He had to swallow three times before he could finally make his voice say, “You’re right. I did do some pretty scary things, didn’t I?”

She peeked up at Edward warily and nodded.

“I’m sorry, El. You should never have had to see something like that.”

“No! No, you shouldn’t have done it! The ugly dogs were bad, but killing is wrong! It’s _always_ wrong!”

“That’s uh… Yeah. It is always wrong.” Ed nodded as his throat unwillingly constricted. “I’m glad you’re making decisions for yourself. Sticking by your beliefs.”

Elicia seemed unsure of what to say to that, so she just thrust the necklace towards Ed again.

“You still trust Uncle Roy, right?”

Elicia looked hesitant at having to keep speaking to Ed but eventually nodded. Ed forced himself to grin as though his throat wasn’t burning with unshed tears.

He wanted to hurl.

“Good. Then you keep that necklace, and Uncle Roy will take my necklace. That way, if you’re ever in trouble, you still know what to do. Only now, it’ll be... it’ll be Uncle Roy coming to help you instead. Is that okay?”

Ed tried to keep his eyes on Elicia and avoid the sad, pitying eyes pinning him from all sides. She seemed unsure about what he was saying – as though she couldn’t trust that it would really be Mustang coming to her rescue instead of Ed – but nodded and hugged the necklace to her chest anyways.

Ed slowly pulled his necklace over his head and held it off to the side. The rush of contentment through his Core said Mustang was the one to take it.

“Momma, I wanna go back upstairs.”

Gracia mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to which Ed blandly nodded. As soon as their footsteps faded, Maes was stepping forward.

“She didn’t mean that. She’s just scared is all. She’ll come around soon.”

“It’s fine. _I’m_ fine. I don’t regret what I did. Hell, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” Ed paused, knowing the way he was staring at his hands wasn’t at all convincing. “I’d do anything for you guys. Not just Al or Winry or Granny.”

Winry, who had curled quietly into Al’s side up until this point, heaved a heavy sob. Golden eyes shot up to the pair of blondes, and Ed noticed not for the first time that Granny Pinako was absent.

“Where is Granny?”

No one responded, and the panicked nausea returned at full-force.

“Where is she? Was she hurt or—”

“She left the room before Bradley’s speech.” It was Mustang who stepped forward, and Ed clung to the way the Colonel managed not to soak his gaze in pity. “She said that she didn’t want to see you bare your neck to him, and she left. She never made it out of the bathroom.”

Ed’s breath hitched as his blood ran cold.

“It wasn’t that the three chimeras weren’t released at the same time. It’s that two of them were side-tracked by Pinako. That’s likely what gave you the time to shield us and gather yourself.”

This time, Ed really did throw up. He felt it churn in his stomach and splash up his throat, barely giving him enough time to grab a wastebasket before upchucking all of the food Greeling had made for him.

He felt a soft hand rub his back accompanied by a sorrowful “Oh, Ed.” Golden eyes shot up to see Winry’s tear-streaked face and felt a whole new kind of nausea well up inside.

“ _Winry_.” Oh god. What had he done? Pinako was like family to him and Al, but she was actual family to Winry. Her only family. And Ed had taken that away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let the Führer drag her here. I-I should have protected her better—”

“Ed, you _idiot_!” Tears streamed freely down Winry’s face as she knocked him harshly over the head. “You almost died protecting us! If those few extra minutes are what got you out alive… If Gran… If she _had_ to go, she would have wanted it to be protecting you.” Winry sobbed as she pulled him into a stiflingly tight hug while Ed struggled to comprehend her reaction. “She loved you, dummy.”

Ed hugged her back just as tightly with Al joining them a moment later. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that the others were vacating the room to allow them space to grieve, but all Ed could really focus on was the guilt.

Guilt over bringing Granny Pinako to her dying place.

Guilt over taking away Winry’s only family.

Guilt over not protecting her.

Guilt over his lack of tears.

He wanted to cry. He felt like crying. They just didn’t come. Ed buried his head into the soft hair bunched up at Winry’s neck to hide his inability to cry from the rest of his family. They would think he was a monster.

He thought he was a monster.

_Granny Pinako._

What would she think?

He could hear Al and Winry comforting him, but they may as well have been speaking underwater for all he understood. As much as he needed to be there for them, he was lost to the haze of guilt and the need to grow stronger still. Stronger than anyone or anything else.

To be the ultimate power.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Maes didn’t know how to feel about the fact that Elicia didn’t understand why everyone was so upset with how she had treated Ed. On one hand, Maes was proud that he had been able to shelter her so well from the ways of the world, especially in such dark times. On the other hand, she was ignorant of what was going on around her, and ignorance rarely led to anything other than pointless bigotry.

It was self-preservation that kept him from knocking on her door after leaving the tragically smaller Elric family to grieve. He stood outside her door. His hand was poised to knock. He just didn’t do it. There was no promise that entering her room would fix her new view of Ed. There was, however, a promise that it would forever skew her view of Maes.

Could he handle it if she didn’t call him “Daddy” anymore?

He lowered his hand, turned to leave, remembered the look of utter heartbreak of Ed’s face, and turned back. That was the position Alphonse found him in God-only-knew-how-long later. Maes welcomed the distraction with a warm smile that Alphonse half-heartedly returned.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Alphonse glanced nervously at the pink door and scratched the back of his head. “I have a pretty large request to make.”

Maes’ eyebrows rose to show genuine interest as he said “Shoot.”

“I was wondering if Winry and I could stay here until this Führer thing blows over. We can transfer to Central’s Academy pretty easily, and if it extends past the end of the school year, finding a place of our own won’t be difficult.”

“You don’t want to stay with Ed?”

“I do. He just thinks it would be safer for us here and… He’s in a bad place, Maes. If he gets too scared that something will happen to us, he’s going to end up doing something stupid in the name of protection. Right now, the most important thing for him is reassurance.”

“Even if that means you’re separated?”

“I’ll still see him every day, and when I’m not there to keep an eye on him, Mustang will be.” Alphonse sighed, looking more frazzled than ever, and Maes noted a tired resentment at the mention of Roy. “No one can stop Edward from doing what he wants to do. We can show him there are other options though. He’s going to try and protect us no matter what, so it’s up to us to help him do it in the least reckless way possible. That means staying close enough for him to know we’re safe and far enough not to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I doubt you intend to stay that far away.”

“Toeing the line of safety is still considered safety.”

Alphonse’s tone was sure, but his posture slouched and fidgeted with worry. Maes’ smile softened into something more authentic as he laid a comforting hand on Alphonse’s shoulder.

“Of course you can stay. You’re family. And if this does drag on past the end of the school year, consider the invitation indefinite. We love having you here.”

Alphonse’s responding smile was a burdened wisp of a thing, and then he was gone.

Maes turned back to Elicia’s door, which was just as daunting as before Alphonse had shown up. As her father, he had the right to knock. As her father, he had the right to barge in. As her father, he had the right to want to protect her. As her father, he had the right to choose what “protection” entailed.

As her daddy, he had the right to fear her rejection should their definitions not align.

Eventually, he found himself saying, “Elicia, Sweetie? May I come in?”

“I don’t want to take pictures right now, Daddy!”

Maes grimaced at the frustration-coated sorrow in her tone before cracking the door open anyhow.

“I’m not here to take pictures. I just want to talk.”

Silence.

“Please?”

A muffled “Okay.” let him open the door further.

He glanced in to see her lying face-down on her bed and, after a deep breath, entered. The soft light of her lamp allowed Maes to maneuver through the room without stepping on any of her toys, and he moved plush animals to the side to make room on her bed. Once seated, he began to gently cart his hand through her hair.

“Momma said I was wrong to say that stuff to Edward.”

“Do you think you were wrong?”

“No.”

The word was sharp enough to make Maes cringe.

“You really think Ed is a bad guy?”

Elicia seemed to hesitate there and shyly lifted her head from her pillow to look at her father.

“I think he’s scary. And he isn’t good, even if he’s not bad. Good people don’t kill. Not ever.”

“Sometimes they don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice!”

Maes took deep breaths as he admired the strong will and unshakable belief in right and wrong that only children could truly possess.

“Alright. There’s always a choice. That doesn’t mean the choice is easy or that he was happy to make it.” Maes waited for Elicia to respond, but she only shoved her head back into her pillow. So he swallowed the fear coagulating in his throat and said, “If Ed hadn’t killed those chimeras – the mean dogs – they would have killed us.”

Her head shot back up.

“His choice was to kill or watch as everyone he loved got killed instead. He chose to kill. I’m not saying that makes it right or even okay. Just that he had a hard choice to make, and I can’t fault him for keeping you and your mom safe. Sometimes… Sometimes you do things you don’t like to avoid things you’d like even less.”

The next question, surprisingly, had nothing to do with Ed.

“Has Uncle Roy ever killed anybody?”

“He has.”

“Have… Have _you_ ever killed anybody?”

Maes removed his hand from her hair to hide the way it trembled and said, “I have.”

Elicia let loose a strangled cry and threw herself back onto her pillow, unwilling to look at Maes any longer.

“You’re lying!”

The words were high and desperate, and Maes bit down the urge to take the offered out.

“No, Sweetie. I’m not. I was a soldier during the Ishval Civil War, and I did a lot of things I’m not proud of. Things I hope you never have to know about or experience. That includes killing.”

“But you regret it, right? You’re sorry!”

Maes took a deep breath. He knew it would come to this the moment he heard why she had been so insistent on not visiting Ed in the hospital. He just had to see it through. Be brave. Be honest.

“I hate myself for the things I did, but I don’t regret them. They were bad, but they got me where I am today. They let me live long enough to meet your mom and have you, and how can I ever regret anything that gets me more time with you?”

“No! It’s not true! It’s—”

“It is.”

“ _It’s not!_ My daddy is kind and good and always does the right thing! You’re just lying so I’ll be nice to Edward again!”

“Elicia—”

“Go away!”

Her little hands were curled so tightly that her knuckles turned white while her body shook with unrestrained sadness.

“I love you, Ellie.”

“I said _go away_!”

If she looked up again, it wasn’t until after the door _clicked_ shut behind him.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Edward was in the library for hours before Roy decided to check on him. He knew Edward wasn’t asleep, despite it being half past two in the morning. He knew Edward hadn’t run away, as his Core burned pleasantly at their nearness. He also knew from the lack of rustling papers that Edward wasn’t funneling his frustrations into research, and that gave him the need to check in.

He knocked softly on Edward’s door, and when there was no response, he knocked again. Numerous knocks and similar silences later had Roy cracking open the door. If he had been wrong and Edward had managed to fall asleep, he would leave.

He wasn’t wrong.

Edward, who had been staring blankly at a wall of books, tossed Roy a snarl filled with anger that didn’t reach golden eyes.

“Ever heard of knocking?”

“I’ve been knocking for the better part of ten minutes.”

Edward apparently didn’t have a response to that, choosing instead to turn his gaze back to the books.

“Fullmetal, you— Would you like to join me for a drink? Coffee or bourbon or hot chocolate? Maybe just some water.” The inflection dropped off at the end as Roy accepted that Edward didn’t want any of that. It was best just to cut to the chase. “Are you sure you don’t want Alphonse and Winry here with you?”

Edward shrugged.

“There’s nowhere for them to sleep. It’s not like they’d let me give them my bed with these wounds.”

“Then I’ll give them my bed.”

Golden eyes retrained on the Colonel.

“Why would you do that?”

There were a million and a half real reasons, but somehow they felt hollow. Like all saying them aloud would do was reinforce the awkwardly polite gap slowly blooming between the Flame and Fullmetal Alchemists.

“I told you already, Fullmetal. I’m really, _really_ into blondes.”

Edward’s lips twitched downwards as he tried to force a frown to his face, but after a few seconds his displeased expression cracked in an unwilling smile. Eventually Fullmetal said, “You’re an idiot.” but there was no bite to it.

“Most people think I’m fairly smart.”

“Most people haven’t seen you trying to tell the difference between transformation, mutation, and transmutation arrays.”

Roy tossed out a sarcastic smile as he said, “You’re right. Having trouble with a differentiation that most experts find difficult, at best, is something I get judged for daily.”

“I judge you on it daily.”

“Of course you do.”

Roy waited for a response without rush, hoping this ghost of their usual banter could help fix what bonding had broken.

“There are other reasons you’re an idiot, you know.”

“Do tell.”

“You chose a career field where everyone you work with wants to see you fail, for one. Then you chose to live with someone who hates you. _Then_ you waste your bonding without thinking about the fact that you can’t just undo it. Because you may want it today, but what about a year from now? What happens when you get to know me and realize I’m an asshole? Or even just get _bored_. Only idiots don’t think those kinds of things through.” Edward’s disapproving sneer was as much a sham as his apparent insults. “Or maybe you’re a masochist.”

Roy chuckled at the fact that Edward felt the need to insult him into seeing reason and took a single step into the library.

“You think I don’t already know you’re an asshole? Fullmetal, you may be kind-hearted and overly self-sacrificing, but you aren’t _nice_. You don’t do things for the sake of making strangers smile and you would just as soon break a person’s jaw as you would buy them dinner. As for getting bored, I don’t find it a likely possibility.”

Fullmetal scoffed half-heartedly, already prepared to tune Roy out.

“You think I’m unaware how I look to you? I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve got commitment issues. I sleep around, and anyone I agree to meet up with more than twice is well-aware that the relationship is strictly physical. Before you, I didn’t have girlfriends or boyfriends. I had sex friends. Do you know why?”

Fullmetal did his best to look disinterested, but curiosity had always been his weak point and it only took a few seconds before golden eyes reluctantly met obsidian in a silent request to keep going.

“A) Because I like sex. B) Because I can’t afford to keep someone who can’t defend themselves by my side. I need someone who can stand strong against my enemies so I’m not constantly checking over both of our shoulders. That’s you. I’m not saying that you’re my one-and-only chance at a real relationship. I’m not trying to absolve myself of my past sexual encounters by claiming that every time I slept with someone else, I did while thinking of you. I didn’t.

“But the reason I’ve stopped going on dates recently is because the more I get to know you, the less interesting everyone else becomes. When I told Chrissy that her dress made her eyes look more exquisite than usual, she blushed and thanked me. All I could think about was how you would have called me out on the bullshit line and known that I only said it to assure we’d have sex later.

“When a tabloid printed a picture of Terrance and me on a date, he gushed over how famous I am and how well the picture turned out. I could only think about how you wouldn’t have bothered reading the thing at all. Then Janet told me she loved that I wore my uniform on our first date, and I heard your voice in the back of my head telling me to get a life outside of work.

“I kept comparing my dates to you, and it made them dull. None of them could tell when they were being purposefully charmed. None of them could keep up, let alone be trusted, with any part of my work life. None of them would call me out if my ego got out of hand or question my decisions if they disagreed.

“The more I get to know you, the more I realize that everyone who _isn’t_ _you_ isn’t worth it. While they didn’t become unattractive, the idea of taking the time to wine and dine them before sex became unappealing. Actually being with them and talking to them seemed like a waste because if I were going to be spending my down time with someone, I wanted it to be you.

“That isn’t to say that I don’t think you’re a pain in the ass. I can’t promise that we’ll spend the rest of our days happily together because I doubt we’ll make it twenty-four hours without getting into at least one argument. There are times when I think that without you in my life, I may never have a headache again. You’re a messy, stubborn, violent, loud, socially inept asshole who makes me want to bang my head against a wall until I pass out.”

Roy held Edward’s gaze through the entirety of his embarrassingly long monologue, and it was only when he saw Edward prepared to fight back against his deceptively short list of complaints that he continued.

“While it may turn out that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with you, I do know what I’m getting into when I say I’d certainly like to try.”

The audible click of Edward closing his mouth made Roy feel unreasonably pleased.

After a pause, the blonde said, “Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” and the pleased feeling gave way to exasperation.

“How in the world could that have made things more _difficult_ for you?”

“Because you’re a bastard! I want to be near you because of our bond. It hurts to be away from you because of our bond. You’re insanely attractive because of our bond. But then you go spouting shit like that, and I can’t tell whether I want to take you up on that drink because you’re not the _absolute_ _worst_ kind of bastard or because of our bond! It’s infuriating.”

Fullmetal had the audacity to cross his arms and glare at Roy, as though him being nice was an offense, and Roy couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

“Oh, god. You are astounding, Fullmetal. Instead of agonizing over why it is you can enjoy my company right now, try just enjoying it. Would that really be so bad?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Roy stared Edward down, and when no response came, he clarified: “It’s not a rhetorical question.”

“So?”

“So if you’re going to deny me my only chance at being with my bond-mate, I deserve to know why.”

It was a low blow, but it worked. Edward was as ridiculously easy to guilt trip as ever.

“Because I’m fascinating _now_ , but that’ll fade. You’ll find out things about me you don’t like, and you’ll get tired of trying to cart my burdens around with your own. One day I’ll get too pissed off, and you’ll get tired of waiting for me to cool down. And then you’ll leave, and it’ll be me who’s stuck with this damnable bond forever reminding me of how I fucked up.

“Wanting to touch and be near each other is going to fade within two weeks, and when it does, your Core will stabilize. Mine won’t. Sure, the intensity will fade, but that urge to lean against you is always going to be there, even if you aren’t. It’s going to be easier to live with the ache if I don’t have the feeling of relief to compare it to.”

Edward shrugged as though this was another theory that didn’t personally affect him. Roy pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of the best way to counter Edward’s self-loathing.

“You’re saying that we can’t see where this could go because it will hurt if it ends?”

“ _When_ it ends.”

“Why are you so sure about that? What could I possibly have done to make you think I’m incapable of loving you?”

Edward’s frown looked more like a flinch, making Roy wonder if he had taken a step too far. He knew that whatever Edward’s problem was, it had nothing to do with Roy and everything to do with his negative view of himself.

“It’s not what you’ve done. It’s what _I’ve_ done.” His voice lowered to a bitter sound just short of a whisper. “Just look at what happened to Granny.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. You saved dozens of lives, and if Pinako hadn’t gone to the restroom, you would have saved her, too.”

That didn’t seem to be what Edward wanted to hear as he rolled his eyes and donned a self-depriciating grin. Roy didn’t say anything else, instead choosing to see where this self-destructive spiral would go. Edward didn’t need to be comforted. He needed to grieve. That meant letting the Lt. Colonel break down.

After at least forty minutes of silence, Roy’s patience bore fruit.

Edward, in the quietest voice Roy had ever heard him use, said, “How can it not be my fault?”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I could have! I should have!”

“How?”

“Because this is what _always_ happens.” Edward took painfully slow, deep breaths while the rest of the air thickened with silence. Edward’s reluctance was clear when he said, “I used to mess with Core alchemy a lot. I thought the things I was seeing were premonitions. That they were warnings of the fucked up shit to come—things I could prevent. But they _weren’t_.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen Granny die, and she’s not the only one. Maes has gotten shot and been tortured. Gracia and Elicia have been used as bargaining chips. I’ve lost Al too many times to count and done stupid, reckless things to bring him back. Most of the time, whatever I brought back was less than what I lost. I’ve cried, I’ve killed, I’ve failed, and I should fucking _learn from it_ already.

“I have the knowledge. I have the thick, choking _fear_ that can only ever come post-disaster. I just can’t figure out how to use it. And now I’m _losing_ people, just like every other life I’ve lived. First Granny Pinako. Now…? Who’s next? What if I can’t stop it?”

Fullmetal let out a frustrated, sorrowful groan as he regretted everything he had and hadn’t done. The heels of flesh and metal palms dug into golden eyes as he tried to stop whatever it was he was feeling, and Roy ached to reach out. His Core begged him to comfort his other half – _screamed_ that he should be fixing or destroying anything that could possibly bring Edward harm.

But all he could do was watch, completely restrained by Edward’s distaste for everything he was.

“I’ve seen you die, too. I’ve seen you lose an eye and end up with an eye-patch just like Brad’s. I’ve seen you get shot. I’ve seen you burn to death. I’ve seen...” Edward’s voice hitched with a little whine, “seen me stab you. I was so _glad_ you were a bastard because that meant I wouldn’t have to care when you die this time around.”

Roy opened his mouth but found no words of comfort. Edward apparently spent his waking hours terrified that history would repeat itself and that he would lose everyone and everything he loved. _Again_. Again and again and again, if Roy had understood correctly.

“I need to be stronger. Stronger than I am now and stronger than I’ve ever been before. If I want to protect them this-go-round, I don’t just need power. I need to be the ultimate power.”

And finally, Roy knew just what to say.

“Fullmetal, you already are the ultimate power.”

Edward shot Roy a hateful, disgusted look that spoke volumes for what he thought of the response, but Roy wasn’t deterred.

“I’m serious. You may not be the strongest, fastest, most brilliant man in the entire world, but you don’t need to be. More than being able to take on every obstacle alone, you have the ability to turn enemies into allies at every turn. Maes, Elicia, and Gracia could have died, but Gerard stepped in and saved them. For you. Falman’s first instinct was to stay put and wait for help, but he ran back to the fight. For you.

“Don’t you see, Edward? You can’t do everything on your own, but you don’t have to. Because your strength lies in collecting friends and family. You have an army of people ready to die for you if you ask them to—”

“I _wouldn’t_ —”

“And that’s exactly why they’re ready. You’re a light in the darkness, Fullmetal. People see you, and it gives them hope. Use that. Use their faith in you to warn them against what Bradley is doing. You have eyes everywhere ready to report in. You have hands all across the country ready to help. Accept them.

“What happened to Pinako isn’t your fault because whatever happened in those visions isn’t what’s happening now. All you’ve got is the knowledge that people die, and we _all_ have that. She knew that. She was ready for it.”

“You can’t know that.”

“She said it herself, remember?” Roy didn’t have the memory necessary to quote it word for word, but that didn’t matter because Edward _did_. And he knew Roy was right. “She wasn’t afraid of death.”

Golden eyes turned to obsidian, and Roy saw a distinct lack of tears that somehow made the knife in his Core twist further.

“She should have been.” The admission was weak, and then just as weakly, he said, “But thanks.”

Roy waited for something more, but it never came.

“What else?”

“What?”

“What other reasons do you have for not giving me a chance?”

Aggravation twisted Edward’s lips into a frown.

“Weren’t you listening? I’m—”

“You’ve got blood on your hands. So do I. You’ll likely get more blood on your hands. So will I. You blame yourself for the lives you failed to save. So do I.” Roy paused, unused to baring himself, and said, “You have nightmares that leave you sleepless for days, and there are times where you run yourself ragged for fear of a stronger enemy popping up out of the woodwork and taking everything you love. I know because it’s the same for me. If I condemn you, I condemn myself along with you.”

They stared at each other for a long while after that, and when Roy felt that Edward’s fears, insecurities, and self-loathing were properly dampened, he took a risk.

“Until my Core stabilizes, it’s only going to get harder for us to be apart. There are studies that show the amount of time spent in physical contact are positively correlated with the amount of time you can conversely separate from your new bond-mate without negative effects.”

It was an altogether change in topic, and Edward’s expression took an irritated, tired, relieved turn.

“So?”

“So would you like to stay together tonight? For the sake of separating tomorrow.”

It was a bullshit excuse and they both knew it, but if Edward did want a break from his suffering, this would allow him to take it without sacrificing his pride. After a drawn-out silence where Fullmetal weighed facing his demons against physical contact with Roy, the blonde’s frown deepened.

“You tell anyone we shared a bed and I’ll rearrange the molecular structure of your uniforms so that they’re always wrinkled.”

Roy’s lips twitched downwards as he tried to ascertain whether or not Fullmetal could actually do that.

“Noted.”

He then turned to leave but was stopped by a gruff, bordering-on-anxious, “Where are you going?”

Roy turned his head exactly far enough to give Edward a politely condescending look that highlighted the fact that nothing about their relationship had changed.

“Your bed is a twin. Mine is a king. Do the math.”

Roy led the way to his room as though he didn’t have anticipation flooding his system. He felt like an addict about to get his fix – that sweet, beautiful high he got every time he and Edward touched – and made feeble, internal attempts to convince himself that he was doing this solely because Edward needed not to be alone.

When they got to his room, Roy said, “I don’t generally sleep with much on. I can wear pajamas if that makes you more comfortable.” But of course that offer was moot as Edward was already stripping to his boxers.

“Don’t bother. With body heat like ours, anything more than a sheet would be a nightmare.”

His tone was confident. The way he looked anywhere but at Roy shouted embarrassment. The way his hand lingered a moment too long over the junction of his automail leg and flesh thigh showed his shame. Roy turned away as though the only thing he had caught was the confidence and began undressing.

He knew this was wrong and that physical contact was something they should be avoiding, lest their already tenuous relationship get dragged further through the mud. That didn’t stop the excitement sparking beneath his skin at the thought of so much skin-on-skin contact.

Edward flopped onto the bed first, crudely kicking Roy’s favorite comforter to the floor before crawling underneath the sheets. Roy took half a second to cringe at the mess Edward was already making of his immaculate bedroom before joining the blonde in bed.

When Edward leaned against him earlier, it had been a breath of fresh air. This was _infinitely_ better. It was like he had never breathed before this moment and his lungs had finally ceased to burn. Like all of the stress he had been carrying was weightless, and all of the wounds his body could never fully heal were soothed. It was a high so consuming that it made Roy want to cry, and it took him a full minute to realize that Fullmetal was doing just that.

The tears were slow and quiet, and if not for the fact that they were falling onto Roy’s chest, he wouldn’t have known they were there at all.  Roy held Edward closer without speaking, and when the blonde finally said, “She’s really dead, isn’t she?” he just nodded.

Flesh and metal arms curled around Roy while a flesh leg found its way between Roy’s own, and they stayed like that until Edward’s bereavement gave way to sleep. Roy’s consciousness followed soon after.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed woke up in a pleasant haze that made him reflexively curl towards the seductive warmth in front of him. Being bonded with Mustang wasn’t ideal or even wanted, but it made him _feel_. He felt safe for the first time since his mom had died. He felt connected to Mustang in a way that not even Al could compare to.

And when they touched last night — it was as though the walls Ed had been building around himself for the majority of his life had turned to dust. All of his need to protect himself _by himself_ had dissipated, leaving Ed vulnerable to the overwhelming feeling of loss.

And it was wonderful.

Ed couldn’t remember the last time he had cried without looking over his shoulder or hating himself for being weak. He couldn’t remember what it was like to let himself mourn freely, and he wasn’t sure he had felt like he could let someone else safely take the reigns while he broke down since before his father had left. Last night had been freeing.

Last night, however, was last night. Now he found himself held firmly against Mustang’s ridiculously well-toned body with his nose tucked in the crook of the Colonel’s neck. Mustang’s face was pressed to the top of Ed’s scalp, allowing Ed to feel every breath the man took. It was likely the most intimate position he had ever been in, and to make matters worse, it was _morning_.

That meant morning wood.

He knew it was a biological reaction – that his urethra was used for both piss and cum, and the penis became erect as a safeguard against pissing himself in his sleep – so he wasn’t ashamed of it. He was, however, wary of how hard his should-be-waning erection would get if he stayed pressed against the porn-star-disguised-as-a-Colonel.

It didn’t help that the still-sleeping bastard was hard, too. He had technically seen the man naked before, but it was a quick, panicked glance. Lying there, feeling it pressed against him was an entirely different subject.

And _damn._ What an impressive subject.

Ed didn’t know if it was their bond or general sexual attraction or what, but feeling Mustang’s length sandwiched between them had a flurry of images hurricaning around in his head, and none of them were decent.

Ed attempted to slowly detach himself from the other body only to have Mustang’s grip turn to steel and pull him even closer. The action made him growl. The friction made him gasp. That left him with an angrily pleasured groan which elicited a tired hum from his captor.

“Let me go, Mustang. We’ve got to get to class.”

Mustang just snuggled further into Ed’s hair with a breathy, “It’s Sunday.”

“Then work. You’ve got political bullshit to attend to and Al’s probably worried sick by now—”

“He’s fine. We all figured you’d be passed out until tomorrow considering everything that’s happened to you. I told him you’d call when you woke up.” Mustang’s voice was rough with sleep, and Ed hated that he liked the way it sounded. “So go back to sleep.”

“Too late now, bastard. I’m up. Now let me go so I can get some breakfast. I’m starving.”

Was he really hungry? No. Did it make Mustang sigh into his hair and loosen his grip? Yes.

Edward scrambled off the bed, ignoring the way his Core immediately cringed at the lack of contact. Obsidian eyes looked up at Ed through thick black lashes and the ends of sleep-tousseled hair, and Ed turned around in hopes that Mustang would miss his body’s wanton reaction.

He left the room without another word.

By the time he reached the kitchen he was clothed, his prick was soft, and he really was hungry. Mustang, who had a stack of pancakes waiting for him, was in uniform and buttoning his petty coat.

“Got somewhere to be?”

“Press conference. I still haven’t given my statement about the night of your promotion. It doesn’t start for another few hours, but arriving early will give the impression of non-urgency.”

“What are you going to tell them?”

“That you were shot, protected us in your wounded state, and pulled through just fine after surgeons removed the bullet. All available resources are now being pooled towards the chimera issue.”

“What about our bonding?”

Mustang shot Ed an unimpressed look as he alchemically ironed out non-existent creases in his jacket.

“Nothing. The less they know the better.”

“I think you should tell them.”

Mustang’s brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what angle Ed was playing, and Ed saved him the trouble by saying, “Brad already knows we’re bonded. He knows about your Inheritance, too.”

“How could he—”

“Greeling told me. The whole family can see Core auras or some shit. He knew I was bonded the second he saw me, and that means Brad knows, too. He expects us to hide it, so I figure the best way to fuck up his plans is to come out with it from the get-go. Tell them my Core was failing, and you had to bond with me to fix it.”

“And when they ask why it had to be me?”

“Tell the truth. My Core wouldn’t have accepted anyone else.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for them to know all that?”

“The only reason to hide my Core type was to avoid Activation Fire Core Assholes trying to bond with me. I’m already bonded, so what’s it matter?”

Mustang’s brow made a perfect arch above his eye as he silently asked when Edward became an idiot.

“We’re still military officials, Fullmetal. If they know we’ve bonded, we’ll have to re-measure our Core strengths for their records. That’s fine for me, but I recall your adamancy over your entry-measurement being a one-time-only deal.”

“Yeah? Well times have changed.” Ed stuffed half a pancake into his mouth, wondering what his younger self would have thought of him caving like this. “Before, I was trying to hide how strong my Core was so that bastards like you and Brad would leave me alone. I knew it wasn’t natural, and the Ishval Civil War did a damn good job of showing how the military treated unnaturally strong kids.”

Ed tossed Mustang a pointed look to which the older man immediately conceded.

“Understood. I’ll reveal our situation and try to warn the presses away from approaching you.”

“I can handle—”

“For _their_ sake. In the meantime, all I want you to do is eat, call your brother, and go back to bed.”

Mustang stared Ed down as though he could make the blonde follow his orders by willpower alone, grabbed his keys, and said, “I won’t finish with the press until well-after three, and then I’ll be at the office. If you need me before then, feel free to contact Maes or anyone in my unit.”

Mustang nodded once before leaving, as though assuring himself that he had done all he could to keep Ed safely tucked away indoors, and Ed waited exactly long enough to hear the car pull out of the driveway before going to get his red cloak.

Like hell he was going to stay put.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Ed spent the morning in the Central Academy’s library while Al and Winry sorted out their transfer. Al had been worried about the negative effects Ed would experience from not being around Mustang for too long, but Ed shrugged it off.

The urge to snuggle into the Colonel’s side hadn’t gone away, but it was no greater than when he only had a partial bond. He could not only live with it, he could flat-out ignore it.

He was halfway through a book on Core types in an attempt to find even a vague mention of Shadow Cores when Al and Winry returned.

“How’d it go?”

Al grinned and handed over his schedule.

“I’m in. The only class that I had any trouble with was Advanced Construction of Transmutation Circles, and that’s more because of my relation to you than the time I’ve missed. He seemed very upset over your lack of attendance. I think it hurts his feelings.”

Ed scoffed.

“His ego is what it hurts. There’s nothing he’s teaching that I don’t already know, and most of his assignments are either trick questions or mistakes anyhow.”

“Yes, well I promised him I would attend every day and try and get you to do the same.”

Winry’s schedule was thrust in his face before Ed could properly mock the idea of attending class.

“I got into all the classes I want, too! I’m in the bonding class with you guys, of course, but there are so many more courses on mechanics here than there are in Resembool that it’s crazy! I’ll need to buy materials to complete my coursework, but I’m sure you can help out with that.”

Winry grinned at Ed, or maybe at his wallet, and even then he found her excitement preferable to Al in Lecture Mode.

“Sure, Win. Whatever you need.”

Her smile faltered some, well-aware that the only reason he wasn’t complaining about her money-spending was Granny.

“It’ll be a lot.”

“I can handle it.” And only because he knew what she wanted to hear, “Besides, it’s not like you wouldn’t buy the stuff behind my back if I said no.”

“Consider it payment for all the times I’m going to have to fix you in the future.”

“Do you make all your clients pay for things that haven’t happened yet?”

“Only the ones who are guaranteed to need it.”

“There’s no guarantee—”

“There totally is.”

Ed glared at Winry until Al said, “She’s probably right about this one, Brother.” which caused him to move his glare to the new offender.

“Gee. Thanks for the vote of confidence. It means a lot.”

Ed’s tone was disparaging, but his companions were unfazed.

“Hey, it’s not our fault you can’t go a few months without breaking at least one of your limbs.”

“I’ve lasted months before!”

“Oh yeah? When?”

Winry raised her brows triumphantly as Ed tried to think of an instance where a substantial amount of time had passed without him needing a fix of some sort. Minutes passed in silence before she shouted “Ha! You can’t!”

Ed almost instantaneously told her to shut up.

The passing librarian – _not Sheska_ – equally told them to be quiet, and they fell into a fit of laughter as soon as she was out of sight.

Al, always the peacekeeper, changed the subject with an innocent, “So what have you been working on?”

“Core research.”

“Trying to see if there’s anything on un-bonding Fire Cores?”

Ed shrugged, both unwilling to lie to his brother and uncomfortable with giving away Greeling’s secrets. Al took his silence as a yes and peered over Ed’s shoulder.

“Would you like any help?”

“Go for it.” Ed waved a noncommittal hand, just in case Al could find something he missed.

“Well, while you two pour over dusty tomes, I’m going to get supplies.”

Winry was already reaching forward to take Ed’s wallet when he said, “We can come with you.”

He felt the wrench before he saw it.

“Damn it, Win! What was that for?”

“For treating me like a defenseless child! I may not be a certified State Alchemist, but I can take care of myself! Now, I’m going to go buy supplies _alone_ , and you two are going to stay here and work on your little bonding issue! And if I hear so much as a peep of complaint out of either of you...”

She waved her wrench threateningly.

Ed and Al exchanged wary glances, and it was with a certain sense of relief that Ed watched her leave. No matter how cautious Ed could be ( _for the sake of others_ ), Winry would push forward, undoubtedly pulling Ed and Al along with her. As long as they were around, he could overcome anything.

“Hey, Al. Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Brother.”

“What did it feel like when you and Winry bonded?”

Al took a few seconds to think it over, no doubt trying to make sense of Ed’s reasoning behind the inquiry.

“It was beautiful. It felt like I was complete in a way I’d never been before, and it’s more pleasurable than anything else I’ve ever experienced. Her Core connected to mine, and I felt it in my soul. She became my soul. We still feel a bit of that every time we touch, but nothing we’ve done since has compared.”

Al’s dreamy expression matched his tone, and Ed pushed down the jealousy he felt over never getting to feel that same sense of completion. Much like he did with everything else, Ed hid his bitterness with a joke.

“Not even sex?”

“We- I can’t- There’s no good answer to that!”

“Is there not?”

“No! If I say no, it’ll sound like the… the _sex_ isn’t good.” Al whispered the word ‘sex,’ and Ed had to force back a grin. “If I say yes, it’ll be telling you we’ve had you-know-what, and if I don’t say anything you’ll assume we’re doing it, say something to her, and she’ll _kill me_!”

Ed stared at Al for just long enough to make the younger Elric fidget before saying, “So sex _isn’t_ as good as the bonding was. Bet Win’ll be disappointed to hear that.”

“Brother!”

The librarian shushed them again, making Al’s blush deepen.

“Well, if you and Mustang ever end up… _you know_ , then I’m sure it’ll be the same for you! It’s not like anything can realistically measure up to the initial feeling of being bonded, you know?”

“Not really. I don’t remember my bonding.”

Ed shrugged nonchalantly, doing his best not to show his disappointment at never experiencing what was apparently the most pleasurable moment of his life. Al, of course, saw right through him.

“Oh. Brother, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Al. I can still feel the bond itself, and it’s almost like a tiny re-bonding every time we touch. Like I can feel his Core energy funneling through my Core and mine through his.”

Al’s expression twisted into something more thoughtful.

“Funneling?”

“Yeah. Like our Cores are working off of the same energy source, and touching is re-charging.”

“Are you sure? My bond doesn’t feel anything like that. For Winry and me, it’s more like our Cores are linked together. There’s a solidarity to it that I find comforting, but we definitely still have our own energy sources. They don’t mix.”

Golden eyes locked as two brilliant minds raced toward the same conclusion.

“You don’t think...”

“That the reason Fire Cores can’t un-bond is because our Cores aren’t separate anymore? It makes sense. If I store our energy, and us touching is how we replenish what we’ve used, it explains everything. That’s why I would always feel the need to touch him, but he wouldn’t. He can’t feel when the reserves are depleting like I can. Fuck!”

“Brother? What’s the matter?”

“It means we can’t un-bond!”

“I thought we already knew you couldn’t un-bond?”

“I don’t mean physically. I mean even if we do find a way to un-do this, we _can’t_. Separating our Cores won’t put them back to the way they were. If we un-bond, it’ll leave me with all the reserves and Mustang with whatever he’s carrying now. I mean, he’ll likely still be able to do alchemy, but it’ll be nothing compared to how he was before we bonded. Maybe before his Inheritance, even.”

And suddenly Greeling’s offer seemed more like a cruel trick than anything else. He couldn’t trade out for a Shadow Core even if he wanted to.

“Brother… I-I didn’t even think of that. I’m sorry.”

Solely because he didn’t blame Al and didn’t want Al to blame himself, Ed said, “It’s fine. It’s not like we were going to find a way to magically separate anyway. This just means I can find something else to focus on.”

“Like what?”

“Something called a philosopher’s stone. I’ve run across mentions of it in my travels a few times, always by some nut job looking to make the perfect chimera. If this is as big an operation as I think it is, that’s probably the next step.”

Al nodded, accepting Ed’s reasoning as the whole truth without question, and Ed immediately felt guilty.

“That makes sense. I’ll go get—”

“That’s not actually why.” Al turned back in question, and Ed, unable to help himself, blurted, “I mean, that stuff happened, but I know Brad’s after the philosopher’s stone because Greeling told me so. We also know he’s behind the chimeras, so I just figured they were connected. Sorry, Al.”

Al looked confused but not angry.

“Why lie?”

“Because he trusted me with a secret that he’s protected for a long time, and I don’t want to betray that trust.” Ed paused, unsure how believable this would sound after what he just did but needing to explain further, “Your trust matters more.”

Al only took a couple of seconds to find a blindingly bright grin as he said, “You’re such a kid sometimes, Brother. I don’t want you to lie to me, but I don’t want you to go around betraying peoples’ confidence, either. If there’s something you can’t tell me, just say that. I trust you’ll point me in the right direction anyhow.”

And just like that, Ed’s dilemma was solved.

“Thanks, Al.”

“Of course. Now, would you like some help finding books on the stone or do you want me to look for something else?”

“You can help me with research on the stone. You’ve got a better eye for historically important information than I do.”

Al laughed.

“It’s not that I’ve got a better eye for it. It’s that I pay attention.”

“History is written by the victors. That makes it fiction. I hate fiction.”

“You didn’t always hate fiction.”

“What can I say? I’ve gotten cynical in my old age.”

Al rolled his eyes and began his search for books that could allude to the philosopher’s stone. They ended up scouting thirteen books altogether, eight of which Ed planned on taking with him when he left. The others were either dull ( _Al’s_ ) or he’d finish them before departing.

Ed was halfway through his second book when the longing hit him. The words on the page blurred as his Core energy spiked and then immediately dropped, and his first responsive thought was to wonder where Mustang was. Had the press conference finished yet, and if so, would it be unreasonable for Ed to seek him out? To hold hands for a bit?

Golden eyes glanced at a clock to see that it wasn’t even two yet. The conference would still be going strong.

“Brother?”

“Huh?”

“I was asking if you’ve found any major similarities in the arrays theorized to create a philosopher’s stone.”

Ed looked back down at the book he had been reading, traced a finger around one of the circles, remembered doing the same thing to the array on Mustang’s glove once upon a time, and once again had to be snapped out of his musings by Al.

“Brother, what’s going on?”

It was then that Ed took note of whom, exactly, he had been daydreaming about and nearly smacked himself with frustration.

“It’s the fucking bond. I don’t know what set it off, but suddenly being near Mustang sounds...” Images of curling up with Mustang by the seemingly ever-lit fireplace in his living room while they discussed alchemic theory flashed through his head, making him sigh and then groan. “nice.”

“Maybe you should go see him. It was really hard for Winry and me to be apart for a while after we bonded, and physical contact was just about the only thing that helped.”

“The bastard’s in a press conference.”

“Then you can wait for him at the office.”

“I’m not an invalid. I can still help out here.”

Al sighed in a way that only he could without seeming irritated.

“Brother, I’ve been through the bonding process. If your bond is anywhere near as strong as mine and Winry’s is – and I’m betting it’s stronger – then doing anything without him by your side is going to be next to impossible. Even now, if I weren’t talking to you there’s a high probability you’d just slip back into thinking about him. I’m not going to read the books aloud for you, so you’re no use here.”

Al placed an encouraging hand on Ed’s shoulder.

“Go. I’ll let you know what I find.”

Ed frowned, noted how reliable and kind his brother was, got sidetracked by a thought about Mustang being incredibly reliable, and reluctantly nodded.

“I’ll be back.”

“Don’t worry about it. Once Winry shows up, we’ll take these books back to Maes’ place. I’ll bring your share to class tomorrow.”

Al smiled but it was strained and apologetic, letting Ed know that he still blamed himself for Ed’s bonding issues.

“Thanks, Al.”

“No problem, Brother.”

When Ed left the library, he fully intended to go to Mustang’s office. Halfway between Central Command and the library, he retained those intentions. It wasn’t until he passed a ritzy looking restaurant and saw Greeling chatting up some beautiful red headed lady that his intentions strayed and Ed found himself changing direction.

“Reservation?”

“Homunculi. Don’t worry. The rest of my group is already here.”

The prissily dressed waiter said something about the Homulculi party being full and to wait for confirmation, but Ed was already making his way to the table.

When both Greeling and the red-head looked up, only one of them seemed amused.

“May we help you?”

Ed took half a second to note that their food hadn’t come yet, another half second to decide that he was hungry, and a third half second to make his way behind Greeling. He linked his arms comfortably around Greeling’s neck as he leaned over a broad shoulder, lips positioned next to the older man’s ear as he said, “Gerard, did you not tell her this was a threesome?”

He kept his eyes on the increasingly shocked woman as he spoke, but he didn’t have to look at Greeling to see the grin. Ed kept going, more empathetic now.

“I bet he didn’t tell you about the bondage, either, did he?”

When Greeling failed to appear either shocked or apologetic, she assumed Ed was telling the truth and quickly excused herself. Ed disconnected himself from Greeling and took her seat the second she was out of the room.

Greeling was almost overly amused as he said, “I’m not actually a fan of threesomes, you know. I’ve tried. It’s just that the whole sharing thing tends to trip me up. You understand, right?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not generally into bondage, either, but I’m sure having you tied to my bed for a few days could change my mind.”

Ed scoffed absentmindedly, his attention torn between this conversation, Mustang, and when their food would arrive.

“I’ll bet you say that to all the halfway handsome men who crash your dates.”

“I’m not into men, believe it or not.”

Ed focused in on Greeling’s smug grin.

“Then why the fuck are you always hitting on me?”

“Because I’m into _you_.”

Ed’s first instinct was to say Greeling was lying, but that was just about the only immoral thing Greeling didn’t do.

“Seriously?”

“I know this seems counterproductive to every conversation we’ve had up to this point, but sucking cock doesn’t usually get me going. I like large breasts and a soaking pussy.”

The waiter chose that moment to walk up, his confusion over both the conversation and the change in occupants giving Ed the proper time to stare.

“I’m sorry. I believe I have the wrong—”

“The food’s mine. She just ordered for me.”

Greeling’s nod gave the waiter the confidence he needed to sit the plates down and hightail it out of there.

“So you’re saying you’ve never been attracted to a guy before?”

“Never. Somehow, thinking of any man other than you bent over my kitchen table makes me want to wash the table.”

Ed laughed at the absurdity of the claim and dug into his meal.

“You’re fucked up.”

“Probably.”

They ate in silence, both knowing that the next topic would be why Ed chose to crash Greeling’s date. Ed thought for a second that finishing their food meant he had to put his urge to go to Greeling into words, but then the waiter came back with dessert menus and Ed was saved. He ordered the chocolate cake, the cheesecake, ice cream, and a lemon torte. Greeling didn’t order anything, but he moved his chair to Ed’s right and took bites as he pleased.

Not that Ed had any right to complain. It was Greeling’s money he was spending.

By the time the plates cleared, not even Ed had room for more, and that left him staring into overly-amused eyes over the lenses of Greeling’s ridiculous sunglasses.

Unable to do anything that could later be filed under cowardice, Ed said, “What are the chances you’ve got some obscure way to circumvent the post-bond need to be around Mustang near-constantly?”

Greeling outright laughed, and Ed found himself being silently thankful for an acquaintance ( _friend?_ ) who found his situation humorous instead of pitiful.

“Oh, I have a way, but it only lasts for around a day at a time, and you aren’t going to like it.”

“What is it?”

“Fuck him.”

Ed’s nose scrunched in distaste.

“I’m serious, Greeling.”

“So am I. If I were joking, I would have said ‘fuck me’ instead of ‘fuck him.’ See the difference?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, and I’m serious. Look, I was alive back when arranged marriages were _really_ popular and high-powered people didn’t want to take a few days off for some floozy with a nice dowry. There were no official studies on it because influential people like to keep their personal lives nice and cozy in the eyes of the masses, but there was an easy difference in the people who could stay away from their bond-mates and those who couldn’t: Sex.

“People who sealed the deal on the first night and every night henceforth, at least for the first week or so, made it through their process without bonding sickness – that’s what we called it back then – and people who didn’t, well, _didn’t_. Now, I don’t know if legitimate sex is required, but I know the more intimate you get, the longer you can be apart.”

Ed leaned uneasily back.

“You’re right. I don’t like that.”

“Well, you could always just forget about him, switch Cores, and fuck me instead.”

Ed rolled his eyes, secretly glad that his lack of want for a Shadow Core wasn’t a sore spot for Greeling.

“Right. Because that’s _so_ much better.”

“I don’t know how Mustang is in bed to say whether or not I’m legitimately better, but I’m pretty damn good.”

Greeling wore a cocky grin that brought an unwilling smile to Ed’s face.

“Can we head to your place?”

“Depends. Are we finally going to fuck?”

“Close. I want to practice changing my skin into graphene, and testing a few things out on you will help with that.”

“Sure.”

Greeling agreed almost before Ed finished talking, and the Lt. Colonel quickly realized that Greeling had intended to agree no matter what reasoning Ed gave.

In an overly obsessive, unnecessarily sexual, generally irritating way, it was nice.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy cursed his and Fullmetal’s bond for the majority of the press conference.

The conference itself went as smoothly as it could have when considering how fully the topic had shifted from chimeras to Fullmetal. Perhaps the chimeras would have kept some of the attention if their bonding had been the only news, but the revelation of Fullmetal’s Core type on top of that had an uproarious effect.

His previous statement of being finished near three thus turned out to be a gross underestimation. He didn’t get out of the conference until close to seven, and even then he had to deal with scheduling the re-measurement of their Core strengths.

By the time he got to the office it was a quarter past eight, and he had a mountain of paperwork to do and multiple reports to listen to. The workload wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. It came with the job. His bond with Edward was what made it unbearable.

While their night together had, in fact, staved off the craving for having Edward by his side at all times, it had only done so temporarily. Just before two o’clock, Roy’s Core had exploded with an intensive _need_ to be with Edward. His thoughts began to circle the blonde without his consent, and in that way he was almost lucky for how the press’ attention had shifted.

The rest of his work, unfortunately, did not revolve around Edward. So when Havoc started speaking about the likely origins of the chimera ingredients, he had to work to pay attention. After catching himself tuning his knight out for the third time, he told the chain smoker just to write it down and have it on his desk by morning. Falman and Breda’s reports went no better, and Roy didn’t even attempt to focus on his paperwork.

Hawkeye didn’t bother to raise her gun when she saw the state he was in. She told him to go home.

Unfortunately, home was just as void of Edward as everywhere else. He felt his Core stir uneasily inside of him, not-so-subtly demanding he go find his bond mate, and Roy forced the urge down. He had promised Fullmetal independence, and he would rather die than go back on that promise.

So he lit the fireplace, poured himself a scotch on the rocks, and stared at the flames until his Core ached to the point of wanting to cry. Being together the night before had helped sate his urges, but now that his Core knew what it could have, it wanted more.

He knew Edward didn’t feel this way – didn’t feel this strongly – or else the blonde wouldn’t be able to help but come back to him. Because this was past pain. It was agony.

His very soul was being ripped apart, and the constant mantra it was pounding into his ribcage was “Find Edward. Find Edward. Keep him safe.”

And Roy couldn’t.

Morning came before he knew it, and Roy found himself standing in the shower, reliving the way golden eyes widened and tan skin flushed at the sight of Roy getting himself off.

He thought about pretending the blonde was there and doing it again, just to take his mind off of the pain coiling ever tighter inside of him, but it was impossible to get hard. All his body could focus on was the lack of Edward, and it violently rejected all-else. Roy ended up idling in the school parking lot over an hour earlier than necessary in the slim hope at he could catch Edward before class.

Surprisingly, he did.

Fullmetal arrived in a familiar, flashy vehicle whose price would have even Roy blanching, and it was only thanks to the simultaneous anticipation and angst thrumming in his Core that he knew where to look.

Edward had spent the night with Gerard.

Roy’s emotional response to the sight of them together – relief, anger, jealousy, want, fear, rejection – was dizzying in its intensity. He caught Edward’s eyes as he steadied himself, and the blonde waved Gerard away with an easy swat of his hand before making his way towards Roy. Fullmetal’s lips curled downwards into a displeased, somewhat concerned frown.

“You look like shit, Mustang.”

Roy opened his mouth to give a snarky response, but his Core nearly thrashed him for it. Edward looked stunning, and _that_ was what he needed to say. Make up for whatever had gone wrong. Make Edward like him again. Please his bond-mate. That was what he wanted.

He swayed a bit to the side as instincts he’d never had before tried to overtake him, and Fullmetal’s flesh hand wrapped around his bicep in a gentle, steadying motion.

The relief was instant.

The pain and need and desperation that had been over-stuffing his veins dissipated to nothing, and Roy couldn’t help but sigh as absolute pleasure turned his bones to rubber and melted his resolve to give Edward his space. He leaned more heavily against his subordinate, breathing in the chalk and musk that always seemed to permeate blonde locks.

And if he couldn’t stop the panic from flitting across his face when Edward made to pull away, who could blame him? Being away from Edward meant pain and disorientation and—

Strong fingers intertwined with his own as Edward said, “Come on, Mustang.” and led the way to the school. Roy didn’t say anything, too-aware of a seemingly new, primal part of himself and its fear of being left again should his words come out wrong. They went down an unfamiliar hallway and swept into a room that could barely count as a closet for how small it was. That was where he regained his senses.

“Fullmetal, what—”

“Tell anyone about this, and I’ll throttle you.”

Edward disentangled their fingers to instead furl both hands in Roy’s hair, lean up on his toes, and crash their lips together.

Roy abruptly lost his senses again.

He reached out without hesitation, lest the moment be lost, and wrapped his arms around Edward’s waist. His hands worked to quickly tear his gloves off and slip underneath Edward’s shirt for blessed skin-on-skin contact while his head tilted, searching for the best angle to ravage sinfully perfect lips.

He found it with ease. His tongue darted out to swipe across Edward’s bottom lip, and the Lieutenant Colonel responded with an encouraging moan and opened mouth almost before he finished. Roy wasted no time in exploring Edward’s mouth, making sure to entice Edward into doing the same.

Their kiss broke multiple times, through never for more than a moment and generally just to readjust. Edward’s steel fingers tugged lightly at Roy’s hair while his flesh hand massaged the base of Roy’s neck, and Roy’s hands were no idler.

He felt scars littering an otherwise smooth back and the asymmetry of one side turning to metal while the other made a smooth transition from trim waist to broad shoulders. One hand snuck around to brush past Edward’s only nipple, and Roy was pleasantly surprised when Edward elicited a breathy moan at the contact.

Roy’s hand flattened itself against Edward’s chest as gently as possible, his mind overly aware of Edward’s wounds even in this frenzied state. His hand then slid down Fullmetal’s abs, angled a diagonal across his taut stomach, and came to rest on his hip. The tips of his pinky and ring fingers dipped into Fullmetal’s pants, but if the blonde minded, he didn’t say so.

Edward was the one to finally press their erections together, causing both men to dislodge the kiss and _breathe_. Roy wasn’t sure which of them moaned – maybe both – but it was Edward who reconnected their lips while Roy ground their hips together.

He dragged his cock over Edward’s with enough force to push the other man against the door. His fingers slipped further into Edward’s pants, just enough to feel the smooth transition between hip and pelvis, before pulling out and using both hands to get a firm grasp on the thigh muscle just below Edward’s perfect ass.

He lifted Fullmetal off his feet and was more than pleased when the blonde caught on and wrapped his legs around Roy’s waist. Roy pushed forward further to leverage Edward between himself and the door before taking advantage of their new position and rubbing Edward’s cock with his own.

Edward’s retaliation was to roughen their kiss by nipping at Roy’s lips. He pushed his tongue forward into Roy’s mouth, doing his best to imitate what Roy had done to him.

The burn wound encroached on Fullmetal’s visible pectoral while still-scabbing scrape lines ran up the center of his chest, but they left just enough uninjured space for Roy to free one hand and comfortably go back to teasing Edward’s still-hard nipple.

He hadn’t meant for the kiss to go as far as it had, but now that it was there, all he wanted to do was explore further. He swiped his thumb experimentally across the nub, humming pleasantly as Fullmetal’s chest gave a small, unconscious arch in his direction.

Roy dominated their kiss once more as he found himself missing the taste of the inside of Edward’s mouth. Keeping with the timing of his thrusts, Roy trapped that precious nub between his thumb and forefinger and gave a light twist.

Edward’s ever-assured voice hitched into a sweet little whine that went straight to Roy’s groin.

Roy channeled his pleasure at the response into a particularly hard, slow drag across Edward’s dick. Mismatched fingers dug into Roy’s shoulders, the metal ones pressing just a little too hard and somehow making it all the better as Edward’s enthusiasm for gaining some semblance of control in their kiss heightened.

Roy raked his nails down the uninjured part of Edward’s chest before coming back up, catching Edward’s nipple between the junction of his fingers, toying with the bud for a split second, and starting over again. Roy was a master at riding the line between teasing and pleasing, and unfortunately for Edward, he was fairly set on not crossing over to the pleasure side without using his mouth.

God, if Edward reacted like this with just his fingers, what would the blonde do when he—

Roy was startled out of his thoughts by Edward’s low moan and bucking hips, and only then realized he’d been rolling the nipple between his fingers in time with his grinding.

Edward jerked his head back, breaking their kiss and knocking his head against the door before breathlessly saying, “Stop. _Stop_. Mustang, I’m too close, you’ve got to—”

“Then cum for me.”

Roy quickened his pace and put more pressure on Edward’s overly-sensitive nipple as he easily re-established their kiss. Edward lasted only seconds longer, his hands fisting themselves into Roy’s once-pristine uniform to pull him closer while his chest arched up to meet in the middle. Roy drank in Fullmetal’s moans as he felt Edward’s body fall prey to blissful twitches and spasms before eventually succumbing to that boneless lull of a post-orgasmic high.

Roy lowered his hand to its original spot just beneath Edward’s ass to help keep the younger man up. His thrusts slowed to a gentle rocking motion while their kiss lost its fervency to settle into something more languid.

He was still steel-hard with what felt like lava flowing through him, but Roy didn’t need to find release just yet. Both he and his Core were all too happy to focus on Edward’s pleasure alone. He didn’t know what had brought on this bout of intimacy, but he knew he wanted it to continue.

He slowed their kiss until it became a chaste string of kisses. Then his lips moved to the corner of Edward’s lips and kissed a line down his neck and back up to his ear. Every now and again he would pause to nip at a particular spot, eventually gently fastening his teeth on the soft lobe of Edward’s ear.

Edward made a quiet noise with the back of his throat and unconsciously rolled his hips against Roy’s, and Roy released the barely-abused flesh to let loose a low chuckle. Their closeness allowed Roy to feel the way Edward’s cock twitched in response to his laughter before the blonde finally broke the spell with a gruff “Lemme go.”

Roy allowed himself to bask in the feel of being so close to Edward for one more moment before gently setting the younger man on his feet and backing up.

They proceeded to stare at each other.

While Roy was sure his cheeks were dusted red from exertion, he was also sure the color was quickly fading. Edward’s blush, on the other hand, appeared to have nothing to do with energy spent as it only got darker.

After taking a few minutes to enjoy the sight of Edward with mussed hair, a skewed shirt, cum-wettened pants, and an apparent inability to look Roy in the eyes, the Colonel spoke.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why—”

“Because you looked like shit, and I figured this would help.”

Roy cocked a brow at the entirely inadequate explanation, causing Edward to cross his arms defensively over his chest and stare at the wall.

“This stupid fucking bond is going to bother me for the rest of my life, yeah, but the first couple weeks focus on you. _Your_ Core is the one that’s unstable, and without physical contact it’s bound to go a little haywire.”

“That still doesn’t explain—”

“Greeling said sex helps us be apart for longer. Something about arranged marriages a hundred years ago and bonding etiquette or some shit. I don’t want to have sex with you, but I figured this would stave off the need for a while.” He shrugged defensively. “I don’t really know the details. All I know is that you looked like shit, and now you don’t.”

Anger seemed to override embarrassment as gold finally met obsidian.

“Unfortunately, you couldn’t find it in yourself to fucking stop when I told you to, and now it’s _me_ who looks like shit.”

Edward punctuated his statement with a jerky gesture to his crotch.

Roy couldn’t help but smile as he again took in the fruits of his labor, his cock straining eagerly against his pants at the thought of doing it again. Edward didn’t offer to help him out with his lingering arousal, and Roy didn’t expect him to.

“I can dry your pants, but the boxers should be washed.”

Edward sneered as though he found Roy’s offered help offensive, but the blush spanning from his collarbone to the tips of his ears took the bite out of it. After a few more seconds of angry embarrassment, Edward reached for the button on his jeans.

“Be quick about it.”

There was nothing sexual about the way he yanked down his pants, hopping on one leg to be able to shed them in something close to a single motion. Roy still found it attractive. Metal fingers twitched to cover his soiled boxers before pride won over embarrassment and he crossed his arms instead.

Roy accepted the offered cloth, snapped his fingers, and handed it back. Fullmetal fidgeted for an entire half-second before saying, “Well? Turn the fuck around.”

Roy turned without arguing, the majority of him still riding the high of Edward’s attention. The small part of him coming back to the here-and-now wanted to panic over what they had just done – the steps no doubt backtracked in their relationship – but he ignored it.

“Done.”

Roy turned around with barely enough time to catch the gloves flying toward his face. He assumed the blonde was going to rush out the door, but instead he got a terse, “You good now?”

“I am.”

As soon as the words left Roy’s mouth, Edward left the room.

Now that Roy’s thoughts weren’t a jumbled mess and his Core wasn’t trying to tear itself out of his body in search of his bond mate, he could appreciate the headache that inevitably came with trying to figure out what to do next.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Maes always told their story like a fairy tale. He called Gracia an angel whose beauty and kindness could be surpassed by none. He spoke of how he couldn’t contain himself and that by the end of their first meeting he was already proclaiming his love and requesting a life together. He said they lived happily ever after from there.

Only one of those things was true.

Maes had, in fact, professed his undying love to Gracia the first time they met. She, in turn, made an excuse about forgetting to feed her cat and hurried away. As much as Maes was handsome and fun to be around, love at first sight was a little too much for Gracia to handle. She assumed she’d never see him again.

When he stumbled upon her part-time job, that assumption was not only proved wrong, it was wholly crushed. He visited her every single day, sometimes getting thrown out for not having the money to buy anything, and talked until Gracia could excuse herself under the pretext of being busy.

Most of his stories were about Roy, though they were all punctuated with questions about Gracia. Her thoughts, her feelings, her experiences: he wanted to know everything.

Gracia, by that point almost positive she was being stalked, refused to answer even a single question.

Embarrassingly enough, it was Roy who finally caught her attention. He came into the store with Maes, content to browse as his friend swooned. Honestly, Gracia barely heard a word Maes said that day. Her flighty fifteen year old heart was caught up in a flurry of romantic thoughts about the tall, handsome boy that hung out with her stalker and how _this_ could be fate. For as much as Maes never spoke about himself, he always talked about Roy. Roy, the charming alchemy prodigy turned war hero.

So when Maes finished his rambling by asking her to attend a party with them, she said yes.

The party came and went with Gracia ogling Roy and offhandedly answering questions from Maes. Despite her hopes, it was Maes who walked Gracia home while Roy went home with someone else.

Two weeks went by before they next invited her to hang out, and she eagerly agreed. This time though, she had a plan. Halfway through the event, Gracia asked Maes to get her a drink – something she knew they didn’t serve – and watched as Maes happily ran off to get it.

She then turned to Roy, excited to finally have his undivided attention, only to find that as much as Maes talked abut Roy, Roy talked about Maes. About how smart Maes was. About how kind Maes was. About how loyal Maes was.

She tried multiple times to turn the conversation back to Roy until he finally said, “Look, the only reason I’m alive today is Maes, and I’m not going to repay that by stealing his girl.”

Then Maes reappeared with her drink in hand. He was panting and the ice had already melted, and Gracia felt the guilt that only ever comes with being caught. If Roy, who never spoke to her, knew that she had been angling for him then surely so did Maes. Yet there he was, drink in hand, apologizing for taking so long.

At the end of the night, Gracia asked Maes to walk her home and invited him out for coffee: just the two of them. She still had no intentions of going out with him, but for all that she had used him and for all that he had been kind to her, she figured he deserved at least that much.

Their coffee date, surprisingly, went well. Once she stopped thinking of Maes as an overly-enthusiastic stalker, she realized that he was just genuinely smart. Yes, he paid extra attention to her, but he also noticed what books people were reading and if they often wore the same jewelry. He could look around the room and tell her something personal about everyone: who was having an affair, who had dreams of something bigger, and who hadn’t slept the night before.

It was an exhilarating game, and it was also when Gracia realized that she needed to directly apologize. If Maes could know all of those things about a group of strangers, he must have realized what Gracia had been doing, too. Maybe from the very start.

So she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and said, “I’m sorry about earlier. It was wrong of me to use you like that.”

She braced herself for sadness and anger, and she was surprised when he laughed.

 _“_ It’s fine! People always notice Roy first. He’s got that flashy sort of allure to him, you know? I was the same way when we met back in boot camp. I thought, ‘This is a guy who knows where he’s going’ and I followed him around until he noticed me back.”

His grin was contagious.

 _“_ So that’s how you get all of your friends, huh? Just follow them until you become a part of their lives?”

 _“_ It’s worked so far.”

When she accepted his next invitation, it had nothing to do with Roy. Maes was fun and exciting and absolutely brilliant. He planned dates that left her swooning and never came to her door without flowers. When she finally admitted to loving him, he returned her love with just as much fervor as the first time they met.

It didn’t surprise her that a life with Maes also included a life with Roy. Before his political career really picked up, he would show up at the house unexpectedly just to whisk Maes away for scheming and trips down memory lane.

Though Roy was always dating ( _if it could be called that_ ) someone new, he never brought any of them over. For as many people as Roy had crowding around him, begging for his attention, he was lonely. He took people home with him to temporarily fill a void inside, and Gracia was never more thankful not to have been one of those flings.

That thankfulness was her first thought when she heard about Roy focusing in on Edward. As much as Maes was excited, Gracia felt uneasy. Perhaps it was because she was a mother, but the thought of sweet, smart, socially awkward Edward getting swept away at Roy’s pace made her cringe inside.

That being said, months later when Maes declared that Roy held romantic intentions ( _a phrase that had never been applied to Roy before_ ) for Edward, Gracia could believe it. Roy had never fixated on anyone for so long before, and never so protectively. She watched him predict and plan and pine, and by the time he finally gathered up the courage to do something about his relationship with Edward, it was Roy she worried about.

Because Roy was every bit as in love with Edward as Maes had been in love with Gracia, and Edward returned none of it. Unlike Gracia’s situation, Edward did know Roy. He knew about Roy’s mannerisms and job and personality. He listened when Roy spoke and they interacted every day. And still, Edward didn’t seem to like him.

As much as Gracia wanted to cheer Roy on, she worried that it might be time to face the facts. Maybe Roy and Edward just weren’t meant to be. And if that were the case, how could she bring it up? Should she bring it up?

Was it worse to crush Roy’s hopes or let him continue on unaware until Edward crushed them himself?

It was a question she asked herself a few times a week, at minimum, and the more obvious Roy’s infatuation became, the more pondering she did. It was tiring and never ended with a solid decision, but she couldn’t make herself stop.

She was actually in the middle of weighing the pros and cons of warning Roy when her doorbell rang. Maes was at work, and Elicia, Alphonse, and Winry were all at school. Gracia had friends of her own, but none of them ever visited without calling first.

Fear clenched her heart, as it so often did after Envy and the chimera’s assault on her home, but she forced herself to be strong. Gracia reached up and ran a finger across her pendant. She felt instantly more secure when a returning warmth spread across her chest. If there was trouble on the other side of the door, Maes was waiting to hear about it.

Gracia opened the door with a calm confidence that she didn’t feel and was relieved to see Edward on the other side. He hadn’t visited since Elicia’s meltdown.

 _“_ Edward?”

 _“_ Hey, Gracia. Sorry to drop in on you like this. Are you busy?”

 _“_ Not at all. Come in!” Gracia stepped aside to make room for Edward. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Edward scratched the back of his neck, uncharacteristically subdued as he shuffled inside. He took a few minutes to find his voice.

 _“_ Do you know how to embroider stuff?”

 _“_ I do. Would you like something embroidered?”

 _“_ No. Kind of. I want to learn how to embroider. Just the basics is fine. I mean, I read a book on it this morning, but I really think seeing it would help.”

Gracia tilted her head, more than a little confused as to why Edward would be looking for embroidery lessons. He hurriedly continued.

 _“_ It’s just that the thing I want to embroider is super detailed and kind of temperamental, so I need to make sure it’s just right.”

 _“_ I see. May I ask what this embroidery is for? Or of?”

Gracia knew that it was in her best interest not to know everything that went on in Maes’ work circle, but that didn’t stop her curiosity. Edward’s cheeks tinted a pretty pink as he fidgeted and glared at the floor.

 _“_ It’s uh… gloves. For Mustang.” Edward cringed as he made eye contact with Gracia, who did her best not to show her excitement.

 _“_ Did something happen to his gloves?”

 _“_ No. I mean, maybe, but that’s not why I want to do it. I’m messing with a new theory for alchemy being based on molecular rearrangement. When I applied it to the array on the back of Mustang’s gloves, I found a more stable, easier to control arrangement. It should help him a lot, but it’s too powerful to just put out into the world. Especially with Brad controlling the world. So I figured I’d do it myself.”

Edward tried to shrug it off, but he was a terrible liar. Gracia waited patiently for him to continue, and after a few minutes, in a much quieter voice, he did.

 _“_ I might also be about to do something that could put us in danger. I’d feel better about it if he had a little extra protection.”

Edward glanced at her as though he was afraid she’d start cooing at him or berating him one, but all she felt was relief.

If Edward were willing to go this far, maybe there was hope for Roy after all.

**(***Intertwined***)**

_Blood and smoke and death were thick in the air, and Roy was choking on them. Burning demons ran wildly towards him – towards anything that wasn’t the hell they came from – screaming like banshees. Roy wanted to crouch down and cover his ears. He wanted to block out the dark-skinned, charcoal-flaked monsters with terrible red eyes._

_His commanding officer’s suffocatingly heavy hand on his shoulder ruined any chance of that._

_“_ _Mustang! Stop pussyfooting around and smoke the rats out! We need more firepower!”_

_The other soldiers in Roy’s squad mercilessly shot down any rats that dared flee too far from their burning city, and Roy tried to stop his hands from trembling long enough to snap._

_His team needed him._

_His country needed him._

_He had his orders._

Roy’s eyes snapped open as his breath caught in his throat. He was drenched in sweat. Roy took deep, shaky breaths as he tried to remind himself of where he was. He glanced first to the right, where his clock read 2:08, and then rolled to the left to feel the cool side of the mattress.

It was then that he noticed Edward propped against the foot of the bed, scribbling in a journal.

 _“_ Fullmetal?”

Edward didn’t look up when he said, “I couldn’t sleep,” and Roy didn’t ask him to explain.

 _“_ Do you…” Roy hesitated, not entirely sure where the broom-closet make-out session left their relationship, “Do you want to join me?”

 _“_ Depends. Do you think you’ll actually be able to go back to sleep?”

 _“_ No.”

 _“_ Then no.”

Roy pushed sweat-slick bangs off of his forehead, internally debating between finding a reason to touch Edward and allowing Edward the freedom to choose how quickly or slowly they progressed (if they progressed at all).

Edward saved him the trouble of making a decision by asking, “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

 _“_ I would like nothing more.”

 _“_ I mean right now.”

Roy glanced back at the clock to be sure that it really was barely past two in the morning before sitting up. He tried to think up a passably suave response before deciding that he just wasn’t feeling it and going with a simple nod.

 _“_ Great. Get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

 _“_ What am I dressing for?”

 _“_ A walk.”

 _“_ A walk where?”

Fullmetal stood and shrugged before leaving Roy to prepare for… a walk. To somewhere. Roy debated for a moment over this being a test before accepting that Fullmetal didn’t have a conniving bone in is body and meant exactly what he said.

It was a deep set self-hatred and inability to drudge up his normal swagger that had him grabbing a pair of jeans and an undershirt. Fullmetal was already waiting for him outside, and they started to walk in a seemingly random direction without preamble.

When Roy paused at the crossroads between 32nd and 7th, Edward intertwined his fingers with Roy’s and led them forward. Some part of Roy – the part that was still barely a teen trying not to choke on the smog of death and decay – feared the answer to why Edward was doing this, so he didn’t ask. Roy’s grip on Edward’s hand tightened, and Edward gently squeezed back.

 _“_ I want to talk about the Core Strength Evaluations.”

 _“_ Oh?”

 _“_ Yeah. It’s going to be a pretty public event, right? I mean, they’re always open to the public, but with how much the press has been hounding us, I figure this one will actually get a turn out. Right?”

 _“_ Most likely.”

 _“_ Yeah, so I know I’m supposed to keep my head down or whatever, but I want to talk to the people.”

Roy’s brows rose disbelievingly.

 _“_ You want to give a speech?”

Fullmetal grimaced and then nodded.

 _“_ Sounds shittier when you put it like that, but yeah. I want to set up a sort of event in the park on Saturday. One where anyone can drop by and get some tips on how to defend themselves. I figured you and your unit could help with organization, and anybody else who knows self-defense techniques can jump in as an instructor. You know, volunteer and shit. That way instructors can come and go as they need to, and the people aren’t walking into the danger zone totally fucking blind.”

 _“_ This Saturday?”

 _“_ Yeah.”

Golden eyes watched Roy through thick blonde lashes, and Roy realized Fullmetal was waiting to be shot down. He was ready to protest, ready to fight, and ready to compromise. He was doing what they had agreed to all those night ago and treating Roy as a comrade. He was trying to trust.

 _“_ I think it’s a good idea.”

Blonde brows furrowed.

 _“_ Seriously? You know that your stupid military appreciation dinner is Saturday, too, right?”

 _“_ I’m well aware. And you’re right that under normal circumstances that would make a difference. By planning an event focused on helping the people protect themselves on a day where we’re supposed to be celebrating our military, you’re undermining Bradley’s authority. You’re making a scene and inviting further retaliation. But if we’re going to defeat the Führer, we have to make sure he doesn’t see it coming.”

 _“_ How is telling him our plan going to make him less likely to see it coming?”

 _“_ It’s politics.”

 _“_ I know I mix with politics just about as well as oil and water, but you’re going to have to do better than that. Not liking the stuff doesn’t mean I won’t understand it.”

Roy swallowed hard as he watched Fullmetal assess him with bright, intelligent eyes.

It wasn’t that Roy thought Fullmetal incapable of understanding the political side of their war. It was that he didn’t want to admit what utilizing Fullmetal meant. It was Roy’s job to play to the politics. He had to know the board, every piece on the board, and use that knowledge to anticipate the next ten moves and countermoves.

As much as it was his duty to use everything at his disposal, he been pushing Fullmetal off to the side. The Lt. Colonel may be an entirely new piece with a completely different set of rules, but he was still on the board, making it Roy’s job to utilize him. Instead of playing to the politics, he should have been playing to the strength of his pawns. Unfortunately, Fullmetal’s strength was on the front lines, carving the path for everyone else.

As much as Roy needed to exercise Fullmetal to his fullest potential, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want Fullmetal on the front lines. He didn’t want to use Edward’s talents the way they were meant to be used. He didn’t want his bond mate in danger. Worst of all, he respected Edward too much to continue undermining his usefulness.

Roy breathed a soft sigh as he accepted what he was about to do.

 _“_ I’m saying I want you to be bait. Distract the Führer so fully that he doesn’t see me and my team sneaking through the smokescreen.”

 _“_ Hold up. So you want me to…?”

 _“_ Piss him off.”

Fullmetal stared at Roy for a few seconds, his mind visibly racing before a daring grin broke his pause.

 _“_ Fuck yeah I can do that.”

 _“_ Fullmetal, I need you to think about this for a minute. You’re agreeing to direct all of Führer King Bradley’s anger at yourself. You’ll be engaging in a political and likely physical battle with the most powerful man in Amestris.”

 _“_ That’s fine.”

 _“_ Fullmetal—”

 _“_ I play the distraction a lot. Seriously. I’m for it.”

Roy stopped and tugged on Edward’s hand to make him stop, too.

 _“_ Edward, you could die.”

Roy paused, attempting to drill the seriousness of the situation into Edward’s head with a single look.

 _“_ I’ll do everything I can, but in a head-to-head battle with Bradley, the risks are just as high as the rewards. And with my role in the shadows, my hands will be tied. If you get into more trouble than you can handle, there’s a good chance I won’t be able to bail you out.”

Surprisingly, Edward’s grin softened.

 _“_ I know. And that’s fine, Mustang. We’re standing up for what we believe in and protecting people. If I’ve got to die, that’s how I want to go.”

Roy’s heart skipped a beat, and he became very suddenly aware of the plan he had just proposed. Of the terribly high chance of losing his bond mate. Of how painful it would be never to see that brilliant smile again.

Then he squeezed Edward’s hand and forced his voice not to crack as he said, “Start out slow, okay? Rallying the people to protect themselves is a good first move, but don’t overdo it. You want him irritated, not in an all-out rage.”

Edward, completely unaware of the wild, wonderful things he did to Roy’s heart, turned and restarted their walk.

 _“_ Yeah, yeah.”

 _“_ I’m serious. If you’ve got too much pent-up aggression beforehand, funnel it into the physical exam. Your speech should engage the Führer's attention, nothing more.”

Edward rolled his eyes before getting distracted and saying, “Shit. That reminds me: I think I figured out why we can’t un-bond.”

 _“_ Promise me, Fullmetal. If you go overboard he’ll only kill you quicker, and you’re no good to me dead.”

 _“_ Believe it or not, I’ve talked to people before. Just trust me on this, okay?”

 _“_ That’s not a promise.”

 _“_ And that’s not trust.”

Edward’s stare was unyielding, his baleful glare daring Roy to press the issue further. Roy sighed under his breath, silently accepting their previous conversation as a lost cause.

 _“_ Why can’t we un-bond?”

 _“_ You know how Fire Cores funnel their energy into one another while bonding whereas other Cores just latch onto each other?”

 _“_ Yes.”

 _“_ I think the funneling is permanent. I think that when it happens, the majority of the reserves are left with me, and every time we touch, we re-funnel the energy to recharge. We can both access it, but only I can feel when it’s depleting. That’s why the need to touch stays with me even after your Core stabilizes.”

 _“_ Are you saying you won’t be able to replenish your Core on your own?”

 _“_ I can. It’s just way slower.”

Roy hummed, not liking that he couldn’t read his own energy levels. If they got into a large fight and he wasn’t careful, he could easily put Edward into the same state that forced their bonding in the first place.

 _“_ If that’s true, the Core Evaluations are going to make you out to be one hell of a threat.”

 _“_ And they’ll undermine how much of a threat you are. It’s perfect for what we want to do, but I figured you should be prepared for the results. You’ll probably barely be above what you were originally at despite already going through your Inheritance.”

Roy nodded, though his frown stayed firmly in place.

 _“_ Thanks for the heads-up.”

Edward, almost simultaneously with Roy’s gratitude, said, “Oh! Let’s go in here!”

Edward took a sharp turn into a seedy piano bar, and their linked hands left Roy no choice but to follow. It had seven patrons, including Roy and Edward, and three of them were either asleep or getting there. The floor was dirty, the lights were dimmed with grunge, and the piano player definitely didn’t take requests. It was somewhere Roy never would have entered on his own.

Edward let go of Roy’s hand and sauntered over to the bar like he belonged there.

 _“_ Got any juice?”

The bartender tossed Fullmetal an odd look that the blonde ignored.

 _“_ Juice?”

 _“_ Yeah. Like from fruit.”

 _“_ We got juice. You want it mixed with anything?” The bartender paused. “You old enough to have it mixed with anything?”

Edward sneered.

 _“_ Yeah, I’m fuckin’ old enough. But I don’t want it mixed with anything. Think you can handle that?”

 _“_ Yep.” The bartender turned to Roy. “You want _juice_ , too?”

 _“_ I suppose I do. Give me a bloody Mary, hold the Mary.”

The bartender nodded and got their drinks without a fuss. Edward, however, looked disgusted.

 _“_ Plain tomato juice? Gross.”

 _“_ It’s a matter of taste, Edward. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

 _“_ Uh-huh. Fuck you, Mustang.”

Roy smirked and sipped on his juice.

Edward watched him for a minute before saying, “We’re not dating, you know.”

 _“_ Well, I’m not dating anyone else.”

Roy couldn’t be positive, but he was pretty sure Edward tossed back the rest of his drink to hide a smile.

 _“_ You play anything?”

 _“_ Play?”

Edward motioned blandly to the piano.

 _“_ No. Maes and I fiddled with a harmonica in boot camp, but that’s about it.”

 _“_ Let’s go try then.”

Fullmetal was up and striding towards the disgruntled-looking piano player before Roy could protest. Roy downed the rest of his drink and followed.

 _“_ Hey. You mind if we take over for a bit?”

The piano man looked up but didn’t stop playing.

 _“_ Troy send you?”

 _“_ Nah. Just thought it’d be fun to try out. It isn’t like anyone here is sober enough to notice if we suck.”

The piano player glanced around the room before shrugging and ceasing his music.

 _“_ Go for it.”

He didn’t wait to see what they would do before disappearing behind the bar. Edward paid equal amounts of attention to the musician as he slid onto the bench. Roy watched as Fullmetal pressed every single key from left to right and then again from right to left. Then Edward tilted his head and did it one more time.

 _“_ Do you hear that?”

Roy sat on the bench next to his bond mate, enjoying the rush of Core energy that came with their thighs touching.

 _“_ Hear what?”

 _“_ The math.”

Roy looked from Fullmetal to the piano and back again.

 _“_ Math?”

 _“_ Yeah. It’s in the notes. The way they mix. The scales. Do you hear it?”

Roy did not, in fact, hear the math. He couldn’t even wrap his mind around the possibility of hearing math, if he were being honest.

Looking at Fullmetal, it almost seemed like he could do more than just hear the math. He could _see_ it. Every press of the key put a number in the air, mixing and interacting to make equations Roy couldn’t even begin to understand.

Fullmetal didn’t wait for an answer before he started mixing up the notes, gaining speed as he went. Music that Roy had never heard before – that no one had ever heard before – filled the air within minutes. As complex rises and falls that other musicians spent their lives composing poured from Fullmetal’s fingertips like they were _nothing_ , Roy allowed himself to relax and just listen. A few sour notes interrupted the flow when Edward stopped staring down the ivories, but it was no less impressive.

Edward swayed, pressing their shoulders together before smiling almost conspiratorially at Roy. He then slowed the music to something simple and sweet, and Roy had to swallow around the sudden, overwhelming emotion filling his entire being.

 _“_ My mom used to hum this while doing chores. She’d say, ‘If you hear this song, either play outside or pick up a rag.’ You can guess which one we chose.” Edward leaned away from Roy, though not enough to disconnect their biceps. “I don’t remember what it’s called.”

 _“_ It’s beautiful.”

 _“_ Most of the things she did were beautiful.”

Roy resisted the urge to press a kiss to Edward’s temple and whisper sweet nothings, and he awed over the fact that he wanted to do it without an ulterior motive. He wanted to be with Edward because of Edward. Nothing else. While he didn’t yet have the grounds to act on his impulses, he was comforted by the thought that their relationship was the good kind of ambiguous.

They weren’t dating, but they weren’t _not_ dating, either.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Alphonse liked to think the best of everyone.

He knew that there were terrible, awful people and horrible, scary things in the world, and that made it his job to think positively. The two most positive parts of his life were his brother and his bond mate. They kept him happy and healthy.

So when Edward came into Dr. Fennimore’s Advanced Construction of Transmutation Circles classroom, Alphonse was torn between feeling happy and guilty. On one hand, he loved any and all time spent with his brother. On the other hand, Edward’s shoulders were hunched tiredly, and if he weren’t attending this class, he could be catching up on much-needed rest.

Edward grunted out a ‘hey’ before taking the seat beside of Alphonse and leaning back in his chair. He placed a book over his face, no doubt intending to go to sleep.

His obvious lack of care gave Alphonse the sense that Edward attending class may actually be worse than his perpetual ditching. Alphonse organized his desk in an attempt to look even more attentive, silently hoping it would make up for Edward’s blatant disrespect.

Mustang didn’t look surprised to see Edward in class, but he made a quick swivel towards their desk-cluster. He placed a roll of bandages on Edward’s desk along with an easy, “I noticed you weren’t wearing any.”

Edward didn’t even bother to lift the book from his eyes.

 _“_ They’re restricting.”

 _“_ That’s the point, Fullmetal.”

Edward grunted, apparently considering the conversation over.

 _“_ Brother! You promised you would take care of yourself!”

 _“_ I’m fine, Al. I’ll put them on later.”

 _“_ Later when?”

 _“_ Tonight.” Mustang was the one that answered, but Edward’s soft grunt of response was far from the refusal it could have been. That was when Alphonse noticed the way Edward had failed to tense up at Mustang’s approach.

If Edward were anyone else, Alphonse would have blamed it on their bond. Seeing as Edward viewed his bond with Mustang as a traitorous, life-ruining thing, Alphonse knew better. Something had happened between them.

Something Edward hadn’t told him about.

Alphonse knew that his brother would never tell him everything – he was too obsessively protective for that – but it did leave a strange ache in Alphonse’s chest to think that Edward was growing in a way that wouldn’t have them falling asleep to shared secrets.

Alphonse was saved from thinking about it by Dr. Fennimore entering the room. Fennimore was a visiting professor with a lot of theories and only a few years of experience, and being shown up by Edward’s natural genius every day was clearly a sore spot for him.

Edward had described him as a snarky asshole with a lot of confused theories and baseless confidence. Alphonse hoped to find that it was just a bad mix of personalities, but from what he had seen in their initial meeting, he doubted it.

 _“_ My, my, Edward Elric actually showing up for once! To what do we owe this honor?”

 _“_ Felt like it.”

Dr. Fennimore frowned at Edward’s dull response but made no rebuttal.

Mere minutes into class, two things became apparent: (1) Fennimore was trying to use Alphonse to get back at Edward, and (2) Edward was asleep. Edward didn’t snore, but his breathing was deep and even in a way it never was when he was awake.

It wasn’t as though Alphonse couldn’t handle himself, especially in academic situations. It wasn’t that he was new to Edward’s enemies attempting to take out their anger on him instead of the invincible Fullmetal Alchemist, either. He was just used to it being done _better_.

Not that Fennimore was stupid. He wasn’t. He just also wasn’t brilliant.

Back at Resembool’s Academy for Alchemists, they had recognized Alphonse’s genius and pretty much given him free reign of his studies. While he wasn’t a national hero like Edward, he was well-known in academic circles for his papers ( _both the ones written by him and the ones written by Edward but published under his name_ ). As such, advice from him was nothing to scoff at.

That made the problems Fennimore was trying to trip him up with barely short of insulting.

Just looking over the side-notes scribbled on the edges of his brother’s actual notes made Alphonse work harder than this. It was no wonder Edward never attended.

It wasn’t until forty-five minutes from the end of class that Fennimore pulled out what he called “The Impossible Problem.” It was a circle that didn’t work despite being perfectly balanced. He said anyone who could solve this problem would get an immediate A.

For the first time since stepping into the classroom, Alphonse felt challenged. The array was technically correct, but there was also something inherently off about it. Alphonse tried to ignore the way Fennimore stared at him while encouraging the rest of the class to once again work on the problem. He tried not to be irritated over the blatant abuse of power.

He also tried not to dislike the glance Mustang tossed him – somewhere between confident and encouraging. Like he knew Alphonse could do it. Like he didn’t hold Alphonse responsible for his forced bond. Mustang was one of the few men who could make Alphonse feel like a child, and Alphonse tried his best not to childishly resent him for it.

Instead of focusing on any of that, Alphonse stared at The Impossible Problem. It took thirty-nine minutes and a dozen different sketched-out renderings before it finally clicked.

 _“_ It’s a transmutation circle.”

Fennimore offered a condescending smile along with a haughty, “We’re well aware of what kind of circle it is.”

Alphonse shook his head, unbothered by his professor’s sour attitude now that he had the answer, and clarified, “No, that’s the issue. It’s structured to be a transmutation circle when it should be a transformation circle. Remove the outer circle, change the Latin phrasing, and adjust the runes. That should pretty well fix it.”

Alphonse nodded, satisfied, but that satisfaction faltered when Fennimore’s smile widened.

 _“_ Well that’s certainly a creative solution, but it’s hardly viable.” Alphonse frowned, and Fennimore added, “Don’t feel bad. Even _geniuses_ get stumped sometimes.”

 _“_ Brother?”

Edward didn’t respond, so Alphonse none-too-gently nudged his side.

 _“_ Brother, wake up. I need you to tell me what’s wrong with the circle on the board.”

Edward groaned before tilting the book upward to see the board. He looked at the problem for all of three seconds before re-settling the book over his eyes.

 _“_ Some stupid fucker got mixed up and structured it like a transmutation array when it should be a transformation array. Get rid of the outer circle, rephrase everything in Latin, and ditch the runes to start again because they’re all shit for what you’re trying to do.”

 _“_ That’s what I thought!”

Alphonse turned back to Fennimore with renewed confidence. He could accept himself being wrong, but his brother being wrong?

It was laughable.

Fennimore turned back to the board with far less arrogance than he had started with but didn’t stare for long.

 _“_ Perhaps you’d like to come show us the correct version, if you’re so sure?”

 _“_ It might take me a bit to work out the right order, but—”

 _“_ I was speaking to Edward.”

Alphonse closed his mouth hard enough for his teeth to _clack_ together, far from amused.

 _“_ No thanks.” Edward paused his refusal with a yawn large enough to show off his canines. “Al can do it if he wants.”

 _“_ Do you always get your little brother to fight your battles for you, Mr. Elric?”

 _“_ Sometimes. And you should watch out. He may not act like it, but the flashy temper is an Elric thing.” The bell rang, and Edward finally removed the book from his face. “See you, Doc.”

Alphonse was proud to stand and leave with his brother as an Elric. He was happy to feel his hackles rising in response to Fennimore’s bias and pleased that the irritation beneath his mild-mannered nature tied him to Edward.

 _“_ You okay there, Al?”

 _“_ Of course, Brother. Do I not look it?”

Edward shrugged.

 _“_ You always look like you’re worrying yourself over something.”

 _“_ I’m not though. This is… nice. It’s nice being with you again.”

His brother tossed him an odd look, and Alphonse felt a tiny jolt of the same fear that had filled him at the promotional ceremony: the fear of losing his brother. It was short and all-consuming. He smiled to hide the underlying guilt and overlying fear, well-aware that Edward could easily figure him out if he chose to pry.

 _“_ Yeah. It’s nice being with you, too.”

Alphonse’s bicep bumped Edward’s shoulder as he moved to walk a little closer.

 _“_ I brought some books for you to read.”

 _“_ Anything worthwhile?”

 _“_ Nothing on un-bonding Fire Cores, but there are some interesting mentions of the philosopher’s stone. Old stories about a rock that lets you perform alchemy without equivalent exchange.”

 _“_ That’s impossible.”

 _“_ Obviously, but that’s just about the only thing all the texts agree on.”

Edward raised two skeptic brows, and Alphonse quickly added, “None of the books went into detail on the stone’s location or how to make it. It seems like a pretty outdated theory, so you might have better luck with the untranslated Xerxecian texts.”

 _“_ You still can’t read Xerxecian?”

Alphonse fought back a blush as he turned away from Edward’s teasing grin.

 _“_ I’m good at a lot of things, Brother. Languages aren’t one of them. You know that!”

Edward laughed, but it was half-hearted. The far-away look in his eyes said he was already lost to his musings, and Al knew better than to attempt re-igniting the conversation.

When they entered their next class, Alphonse was immediately swept into a strong hug. He awkwardly patted large, muscular arms as he watched Edward ( _the traitor_ ) avoid a similar fate and continue on to his seat as though he weren’t abandoning his only blood relative.

 _“_ Hey, Alex.”

 _“_ Oh, my brilliant young friend! I am so incredibly happy to see you and have you in my class! It will be the most wonderful of experiences to have not only one, but _two_ Elrics brightening up each day!”

Alphonse felt his feet leave the floor as Alex swung him in happy, sparkling circles. By the time his shoes reacquainted themselves with the floor, he was so dizzy that he barely registered Alex’s shirt shredding from the strain of covering his overly-muscled torso.

 _“_ It’s uh, it’s good to see you, too. Thank you again for letting us join your class so late.”

 _“_ It is no problem! You and your bond mate are the embodiment of my course objective! In fact!” Strong hands gripped Alphonse’s shoulders to turn him towards the rest of the class. “My most wonderful and diligent of students! I would like to introduce you to the newest members of our class, Alphonse Elric and his bonded, Winry Rockbell!”

Alex held out a hand for Winry to stand and join them, but she ( _also a traitor_ ) just waved.

Alex, ever the optimist, shouted, “Of course! You are too excited to learn for the detours of introduction! How admirable! Nevertheless, my classroom is a family, and all members of a family must be acquainted!”

Alphonse attempted to maneuver out of Alex’s hold and to his seat, but all he managed to do was get pulled into a one-armed hug.

 _“_ I first want to emphasize that I have not forgotten about our fallen family members! Sheska and Envy will forever be a part of our beloved family, and we will treasure them and their memories as such!” Alex flexed with the arm not holding Alphonse as tears streamed down his face. “Thankfully, Namae and Russell, our orphaned Activation and Energy Core holders, have agreed to become a pair to complete the course! With a newly made pair and two true bond mates joining us, we gather the courage to move forward!”

Alex spread his arms wide, and if he were capable of producing glitter at will, Alphonse was sure the air behind him would be filled with it. Instead of focusing on that, he took his freedom for the opportunity it was and hurried to his seat.

 _“_ Are we not going to talk about the other truly bonded pair in this room?”

Solaris was no doubt hoping to draw negative attention to either Edward or Mustang, and Alphonse hated himself for being thankful. His brother’s bond had been eating away at him ever since asking Mustang to make it.

Alex held up placating hands.

 _“_ Normally, I would be overjoyed to delve into the bonding experiences of my beloved family. As this particular bond was formed under very special circumstances, I believe it is best that we—”

 _“_ It’s fine.” Edward already had the Xerxecian book laid out on his desk, and he didn’t bother looking up from it as he said, “He isn’t the absolute worst kind of bastard.”

Mustang took that as his cue.

 _“_ Fullmetal is a good man, and bonding was a small price to pay to save him. We aren’t sure how we plan on proceeding on a personal level, but whatever we choose, I’m sure it will be amicable.”

Mustang’s addition was all politics and nothing of what Alphonse wanted to hear. Edward’s response, however, was telling.

Alphonse knew that his brother would rather be alive than dead – largely out of some twisted sense of duty – but that go-to answer never shed any light on how he viewed the bond itself. Because while Edward didn’t like lying, he would do it to protect Alphonse, and that meant any answer given directly to Alphonse could be false.

This though. This was out in the open. Edward answered when he could have brushed it off or redirected the conversation or just flat out ignored them, and _that_ meant he was being honest.

Edward didn’t hate Mustang.

Edward didn’t hate the bond.

So Alphonse could stop hating himself.

 


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Ed had been keeping an eye on the aura-flow of Brad’s office ever since he turned Central Command into a monument. Brad’s Core aura was a deep black, which made sense when considering his soullessness, and the people who most visited his office had dark green, sunny yellow, and mossy green auras.

The dark green aura belonged to Solaris, Ed was sure. The only thing Ed knew about the other two was that they kept popping up where he didn’t want them to. The sunny yellow one, for instance, had shown up around Greeling’s house. If it were just that disturbingly bright aura and nothing else, maybe Ed could brush it off as surveillance. As is, the aura’s appearance came with an array.

The paint used for this particular array so closely matched the color of the porch that it was nearly invisible, and dirt and leaves had been swept over it to further obscure its presence. He hadn’t drawn attention to it when he saw it because he didn’t know what to think. He hadn’t known how to react.

The lack of knowledge was what stopped Ed from alerting Greeling or taking any sort of offensive action. Ed waited until a time when he knew Greeling wouldn’t be home and uncovered the array for a better look. That better look burned the array into Ed’s mind, and no matter how many times he tried to think of something else, he couldn’t. All he could do was draw the array over and over again in hopes that the next time he drew it, the result would be different.

It wasn’t, of course.

Instead of finding some fantastical new interpretation of this array, Ed just stared. He had been staring for the past who knew how long and would continue to stare at it for the same amount of time. He stared and he stared, and then he stared some more.

The array was meant to create a chimera.

Ed hadn’t seen one in years, and looking at it now, he felt sick.

Creating chimeras didn’t just mesh bodies together. It meshed souls. The stronger the soul was, the longer it would take to integrate, but it _would_ integrate. And then the new abomination of a soul would attach itself to the Core (assuming the person used had a Core) and the deal would be done.

Ed could handle all of that. What he wasn’t sure how to handle was its location.

Ed knew that Greeling wasn’t behind this. Even if he didn’t trust Greeling as much as he did, the man was too smart to make such a stupid slip-up. Besides, Greeling’s backyard was pretty much for show. He never used it, and it was unlikely even he knew the array was there.

That could only mean Brad was already starting to target those closest to Ed, and Ed hadn’t even done anything yet. Even worse, Greeling wasn’t like Mustang or his men. He didn’t have a reason to get in Brad’s way other than Ed dragging him there. Ed hated himself for putting his friends in danger, and he hated himself more for being unwilling to stop.

Protect his friends.

Protect the people.

Protect his friends.

Protect the people.

If he didn’t take Brad down soon he would probably have to choose, and if he waited too long, the choice would cease to be his.

Al. Winry. Maes. Gracia. Elicia. Greeling. Namae. Elaine. Mustang.

Everyone else.

Ed stared unseeingly at the array in front of him and made useless attempts not to think about it.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed rarely interacted with Gerard inside of class. Gerard didn’t mind because they did interact outside of class. They trained together, and Ed could (and did) spend hours on end just bouncing ideas off of Gerard, uncaring of Gerard’s inability to give any useful input whatsoever.

Ed was smart and snarky and had a laughably large hero complex. He had a genuinely atrocious personality that he failed to hide despite being plenty smart enough to manipulate those around him. He didn’t spare feelings. All he really cared about were his friends, his family, and for whatever reason, Gerard.

Gerard knew these things to be fact because above all else, Ed was _honest_.

So when Ed marched into class looking as pissed as Gerard had ever seen him, he was positive he’d be hearing about who and why momentarily. What Gerard didn’t expect was for either of those answers to be him.

 _“_ What the fuck, Greeling? You didn’t think I’d find out about this?”

Ed’s hand slammed a piece of paper onto Gerard’s desk, but Gerard cared little to nothing for his theatrics. As angry as Ed sounded, there was something off about him. About his eyes.

 _“_ Of all the stupid fucking stunts to pull, you’re messing with chimeras? They told me you were allied with Brad, but did I listen? No. I fucking trusted you!”

Gerard’s eyes narrowed as he bared his teeth with a displeased frown.

 _“_ You think _I’m_ in leagues with _Brad_?”

 _“_ What am I supposed to think? I found _this_ in your backyard!” Ed hit the paper again. “I stuck up for you, and this is how you repay me?”

 _“_ Ed, I didn’t—”

 _“_ I don’t want to hear any of your fucking excuses! I’m done being manipulated, and I’m done with you! You come near me again and I swear to the Gate,” Ed fisted a hand into Gerard’s fur vest and violently yanked Gerard close enough to whisper, “I know you’re innocent. I trust you, and I need you to trust me back.”

Then he shoved Gerard just as violently back and turned to take a seat on the other side of the room. Namae, Alphonse, and Winry were quick to join him, all whispering questions of what that was about, while Martel took Ed’s vacated seat. Martel leaned over to get a better look at the paper Ed had oh-so-nicely delivered, and Gerard looked with her.

It was, in fact, an array. Gerard didn’t have enough experience with alchemy to say what kind of array it was, but he could bet Ed hadn’t been lying about it being linked to chimeras.

Gerard flipped the paper just enough to see that there was writing on the back before laying it flat on the desk. Solaris took the free seat on his other side a moment later.

 _“_ I see you and your pet had a falling out. Poor thing. Not that I didn’t see this little catastrophe a mile away. He’s too good and you’re too you. Though I must say I didn’t expect you to start working with Bradley behind my back. _Naughty boy_.”

 _“_ I’m not working with Brad.”

Solaris didn’t even pretend to be surprised.

 _“_ No? That’s too bad. I was looking forward to working with you again.”

Gerard grit his teeth and held his temper very firmly in check as he tapped on the paper in front of him.

 _“_ Why was this outside of my house?”

 _“_ How should I know? You’re the one who put it there.” Solaris pulled away as Gerard turned to her, no doubt sensing the danger in his demeanor. She continued with a faux-placating, “And if you didn’t, there’s nothing to fear. After all, I hear the elder Elric’s got a real _knack_ for figuring out he’s being deceived.”

Solaris winked and stood, dragging a long fingernail across Gerard’s desk as she made her way back to her spot beside of Mustang. Instead of grabbing her and ending her sorry life where it stood, Gerard folded the paper and stuffed it into his vest pocket for later examination.

Good things to those who wait.

Waiting, sadly, was a nightmare. He felt the note burning a hole in his pocket just as much as he felt Ed’s dismissal of their relationship in the empty air around him. Ed’s whispered assurance let Gerard know that he only wanted their images separated for the public, but to what extent?

Was Gerard supposed to accept Brad’s proposal and spy for Ed? Were they to discontinue their sparring sessions and only meet in back alleys to exchange information? It had been obvious for a while now that Gerard would end up being a major player for Ed’s side, but he hardly thought he would be doing it from _not_ Ed’s side.

It was smart. It was strategic. Gerard respected Ed’s ability to utilize him, even if he didn’t like how. Or maybe it was less that he didn’t like _how_ and more that he didn’t like his obnoxiously idealistic view of Ed being tarnished by human nature.

Either way it set Gerard’s teeth on edge.

When Gerard got home, he immediately started searching for the array. Once he was actually looking for it, he started berating himself for not spotting it sooner. It was painted a shade of brown barely darker than the wood of his porch, and it was covered with dirt and leaves.

It was a trap.

Whether it was intended for actual use or had already served its purpose by being seen by Ed, Gerard didn’t know. What he did know was that people had been to his home, invaded his personal space, and he wanted them dead.

 _“_ Roa!”

Roa appeared seconds later, and Gerard kicked the array as he said, “Clean this up. I want the house on lock down and someone on guard twenty-four seven. Got it?”

 _“_ Of course.”

Gerard didn’t look at Roa as he stormed inside and up to his room. He didn’t open Ed’s note again until the door was shut behind him, and even then it was only after checking the shadows for signs of Selim. On the front of the paper was the same array he now knew was painted in his backyard. On the back, however, was handwriting so bad that it could have been written only by Ed.

_This is on your back porch. I don’t think Brad would use it on you, but that doesn’t mean anything for your crew. If he’s already targeting you this might be too late, but here’s to hoping it’s not. I’m about to do something that’ll really fuck with Brad. He’s going to come after me hard and fast, and no one siding with me is safe. If you really want to get out of Brad’s crosshairs, now’s your chance._

_I don’t really care what you think of me, but I’m your friend, and that means I don’t want you to die._

_Stay Safe._

Gerard read the note once, twice, and then a third time. Every reading had him zeroing in on the sentence, _“I’m you’re friend, and that means I don’t want you to die.”_ which had him gripping the note just a little tighter until he had to put it down for fear of tearing it.

Ed not only didn’t want anything from him, he preferred keeping Gerard safe to making use of his talents. He cared for Gerard’s safety more than his own goals; more than his own life, considering he was facing Brad.

Gerard ground his teeth together as he tried to comprehend someone showering him with no-strings-attached kindness even after knowing him for who he really was. He tried to understand offering himself to someone who could really, genuinely use him only to be turned away because they _cared_ about him too much.

Gerard didn’t need protection, yet Ed was offering it. Gerard didn’t ask for friendship, yet Ed was giving it. Gerard didn’t do anything that wasn’t in his own self-interest, yet all Ed wanted from Gerard was to _stay safe_.

Gerard didn’t know what it was he felt brewing in his chest _(anger-fondness-hatred-gratitude-_ **_greed_ ** _)_ , but it was overwhelming.

Was this what it felt like to be loved?

Gerard flattened the paper and placed a book over it in an attempt to get rid of the crinkles from his earlier folding.

No matter who it was that physically painted the array on his porch, Brad was behind it. And yes, _maybe_ it was Gerard’s fault for assuming that Roa or Martel had brought a date home when he felt his Core twinge the wrong way, but it was Brad’s fault for fucking with him in the first place.

Brad was the one driving a wedge between him and Ed. Brad was the one threatening to take away not only Ed but the rest of Gerard’s makeshift family, too. Brad was the one who was so desperate to maintain his _legacy_ that he was willing to ruin everything for everyone else to get it.

He had used Envy, was using Solaris (who was no doubt using Gordon), and was likely trying to find leverage to use Trisha. This – ruining Gerard’s relationship with Ed – was no doubt Brad’s way of reeling him in, too.

Well fine. If Brad wanted to get the family together so badly, who was Gerard to stand in his way?

Decision made, Gerard grabbed his keys and made his way out the door. He drove to Brad’s house, which was as gaudy and tastelessly decorated as always, and stopped at the park across the street. He turned off his car and waited for the tell-tale red eyes in the shadows.

It was nearly impossible to predict where and when Selim would be looking, but he did perimeter checks three times a day like clockwork. While Gerard didn’t know the exact timing, he was patient. He could wait. It took nearly two hours, but when large red eyes finally appeared, Gerard grinned and crooked a finger towards himself.

Selim took all of seven minutes to get from his room to Gerard’s car, and by then Gerard had already re-started the engine. Selim stopped at the driver’s side window, unamused.

 _“_ Uncle Gerard.”

 _“_ Get in.”

 _“_ Why?”

Gerard’s glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he glanced at the big, ugly house behind Selim.

 _“_ You really want to talk about this with daddy looking over your shoulder?”

Selim’s creepy-as-hell blank expression didn’t change, but he did walk around and get in the car. As soon as they were a full half-city from Brad’s place, Gerard dove in.

 _“_ Word on the street is that you and Brad aren’t getting along so well anymore. He’s too old and you’re too young, and that inter-generational gap is just too much to overcome. Any truth to that?”

 _“_ You’re far from amusing, Uncle Gerard.”

 _“_ I’ll take that as a yes. So, assuming you’re ready to spread your wings and Brad’s too egotistical to let that happen, what do you say we take him out?”

Selim dropped the disinterested pretense as he turned to fully face Gerard.

 _“_ Take him out?”

 _“_ Kill him.”

Selim stared at Gerard expectantly, but Gerard kept his eyes ahead and demeanor aloof. This was hardly the first time he had enticed one of his ridiculously vain family members to do what he wanted, and there was no way _Selim_ would be the one to out-maneuver him.

Selim’s frown said he knew that, too.

 _“_ You and Father have been at odds since long before I was born. Why move forward now?”

 _“_ Because he stayed out of my way before this. Now your old man is stepping on my toes, and he doesn’t seem keen on stopping. I figure this way we can both get what we want.”

 _“_ And what is it, pray tell, that I want?”

Gerard scoffed.

 _“_ You’re a riot when you play coy. You know that?”

 _“_ I’m not—”

 _“_ You are.” Gerard glanced at Selim out of the corner of his eyes just to see the fury burning behind the childish facade. “You forget that Brad was the head of my household, too. I know firsthand what a self-centered, controlling, micro-managing ass-hat he can be. I know you’re plenty old enough to be out causing your own brand of chaos, and I know he’s keeping you locked away because it looks better for his image if he’s a family man.”

Gerard watched Selim glare for an entire ninety seconds.

Finally, Selim said, “Suppose Father does have an unfortunate accident. What happens to me then? Mother will hardly just let me go.”

 _“_ Kill her, too.”

 _“_ So... what? I can go to an orphanage? I believe I’m better off where I’m at.”

 _“_ I’ll adopt you.”

 _“_ And then what?”

 _“_ What?”

Selim half-sighed, half-growled, already fed up with the slow pace of their dance.

 _“_ You would be my legal guardian. What, exactly, would you do with me?”

Gerard snorted.

 _“_ Do I look like a fucking dad to you? I’d turn you loose, and you can go do whatever you want. Just don’t expect me to bail you out when you get into trouble.”

Selim leaned back in his seat and examined Gerard. The brat could be brash and greedy, but he wasn’t stupid. Murdering his father the Führer wasn’t something he could agree to on a whim. That being said, Selim was his father’s son, and that made arrogance an inescapable trait. He believed he could gain control of the situation, whatever the situation was. He assumed that if he watched Gerard carefully enough – if he planned well enough – he could gain the upper hand.

That assumption was based in the misconception that Gerard actually cared whether or not Selim would side with him.

The kid could be a useful ally, and the look on Brad’s face after being betrayed by his progeny would be priceless, but it wasn’t a make-or-break situation. The point of this meeting wasn’t to gain a new pawn but to plant the seed of possibilities.

If Selim agreed, he was an incredible spy with no moral compass.

If Selim declined, he would keep the plan in the back of his mind, ready to switch sides at a moment’s notice.

And even if the improbable happened and Selim told Brad that Gerard planned to kill him, it would do no good. Gerard _always_ planned to kill him. He just didn’t always feel like acting on it.

 _“_ I find your proposal interesting.”

 _“_ That’s because it’s interesting.”

 _“_ But I’ll need more time to think on it.”

 _“_ Obviously.”

Deciding their conversation was over, Gerard sped up and rounded the last few corners to get Selim home. Selim reached for the handle as the car slowed to a halt but didn’t open the door.

 _“_ Tell me: What is it Father has done to finally push you over the edge?”

 _“_ He’s trying to take what’s mine. I don’t appreciate it.”

Gerard flashed a malicious grin that showed just how much he _didn’t appreciate it_ , and Selim got out of the car. He, unlike his father, had a proper understanding of the term “too dangerous.”

 _“_ Take care, Uncle Gerard.”

 _“_ Just think on it, Selim. And remember: The Pride goeth before the fall.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

Kain’s father was a loving man with a kind heart. He did everything in his power to make sure Kain never wanted for anything, even without the help of a second parent. He encouraged Kain’s interests, sympathized with Kain’s distresses, and assured Kain that God had a plan for everyone. As long as he kept his faith, he would be taken care of.

When Kain’s father died and Kain was forced to join the military to pay for his schooling, his faith wavered. When both his classmates and squad-mates ostracized him for his perceived femininity and odd mannerisms, his faith flickered. When Kain accidentally intercepted a message to the Führer’s inner circle outlining corrupt plans for a corrupt system, his faith dampened to near nothing.

Roy Mustang was the oxygen his faith needed to flare back to life.

Mustang saw Kain’s knack for electronics and communications as an indispensable asset, and he personally recruited Kain for his unit. Kain didn’t have high hopes for the transfer, but Mustang was the first person to show him genuine kindness and encouragement since since his father’s death. Luckily, reality far exceeded Kain’s expectations.

Looking back, Kain understood that Mustang’s personal approach had probably been a carefully considered manipulation. Kain needed something to believe in, and Mustang provided. That didn’t change the fact that within Mustang’s unit, Kain found his safe haven.

Aside from Mustang and Hawkeye, everyone in the unit was an outcast just like Kain. Maybe they didn’t look it or even act it, but they definitely felt it. Havoc and Breda hid it best – Havoc by laughing off his hard work and dedication, and Breda by disguising his intelligence beneath an underachieving delinquent facade – but they still felt the constricting expectations of unforgiving societal constructs. They still had to fake it to fit in.

Mustang’s unit was where Kain found true friends and finally understood his father’s insistence on following his dreams. Mustang gave him purpose beyond just surviving and a goal he could believe in. With Mustang’s confidence, intelligence, and cunning lighting the way, Kain regained the belief that he could genuinely help his ailing country become something better.

Within that, Kain also regained his faith in a higher power and the ultimate plan that came with it. If not for the years of neglect and depression, Kain may never have stumbled into Mustang’s path or been invited to join his new family. Even if he didn’t like all of the twists and turns life took, he felt secure in the knowledge that everything happened for a reason.

That security, however, was not something he could easily share.

If it were shareable, Kain could do something other than watch Falman fall apart under the guilt of getting in Fullmetal’s way at the ceremony. He could assure Falman that there was more at work than just bad luck and ease the otherwise unshakeable shame of being the one to inadvertently force Mustang and Fullmetal to bond.

As much as Kain cared about the entire unit, Falman was the one he most related to and thereby most empathized with. When Falman hurt, Kain hurt, too.

So despite Falman shuffling papers and getting coffee around the time everyone arrived at work, Kain saw the wrinkled uniform and tiredness that came with sleeping at a desk. He saw a normally comfortable stance hunched by self-depreciation. He watched gentle, intelligent eyes darken from doubt and desperation, and he could do nothing about it.

They all invited Falman out after work. They assured him of his innocence. They offered to help. They pretended to believe him when he said he’d be leaving in a few minutes. When even Hawkeye told Falman to take a break, Kain knew they had let it go too far. He just equally didn’t know what to do about it.

 _“—_ stupid, god-fucking… _Leave me alone!"_

The office door slammed open and just as quickly slammed closed, leaving room only for Fullmetal to slip inside. The anger Fullmetal held for whatever reporter had followed him inside ( _likely the Earth Alchemist, as all other reporters would have been stopped by security_ ) vanished almost before he finished turning around.

The blonde alchemist offered a sheepish smile while raising a hand to scratch the back of his scalp.

 _“_ Sorry about that, I—”

Fullmetal was interrupted by the clatter of a chair scraping the floor and long legs bumping against a wooden desk as Falman hurriedly stood to salute. Blonde brows scrunched confusedly.

 _“_ I don’t know what Mustang told you, but you can drop the formalities. I’m not really into the whole military official thing.” Fullmetal took a few steps closer to Falman as the older man hesitantly lowered his salute. “He told me you were alright, but it’s good to see it for myself. I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you for a while, but time management’s never been one of my strong suits.”

Fullmetal shrugged half-apologetically while Falman raised a confused hand to point at himself.

 _“_ To me?”

 _“_ Yeah. I wanted to thank you. You really saved my ass back there.”

Falman’s eyes widened almost comically.

 _“_ I-I did?”

 _“_ Yeah. I never would have been able to get back and undo my boxes in time. Without you there, I doubt I would’ve made it. So thanks.”

Kain watched as Fullmetal closed the distance to Falman’s desk, hoping against all odds that this could be what snapped Falman out of his spiral. Unfortunately, Fullmetal got distracted from whatever he intended to say by the map on Falman’s desk.

 _“_ What’s this?”

Fullmetal tapped the paper twice. Kain tried his hardest to pretend he wasn’t watching as the sudden change in topic only served to make Falman even more flustered.

 _“_ It’s, uh, it’s a map of everything I think the Führer might have had his hands in over the past few years. I haven’t exactly finished it yet, and I can’t say for sure if it’ll lead to anything, but I needed something to focus on. A-a way to help.”

Fullmetal picked the map up, and Kain saw hundreds of red dots forming seemingly random lines and figures within a near-perfect circle around Central. Golden eyes stared hard at the paper as though the line-up of the incidents scratched at something just beyond his understanding.

Kain felt sorry for Falman as Fullmetal seemed to forget that they were in the middle of a conversation, completely content to just stare at the map. After a few minutes, Falman tried to re-initiate.

 _“_ It’s-it’s slow-going. It was the first thing I could think of that, uh, that might lead… _somewhere_ ,” Falman whispered ‘somewhere’ with a hopeless breath, “but if you think there’s a better path to take—”

 _“_ No. No, this is good. You’re onto something. Actually, can you go back further? Like, way further. And wider, too. If you could do this back to five or six years before the Ishval Civil war started and spread it out over all of Amestris, I think we could really have something.”

Fullmetal held the paper closer to his face before flattening it back out on the desk as though a change in perspective would help him figure it out.

Falman re-drew Fullmetal’s attention back by asking, “You could do this yourself, couldn’t you?”

 _“_ Probably. Do you think it’ll take too much time to do alone?”

 _“_ No. No, it’s just that I...”

Falman glanced around the room, and Kain offered a discreet, encouraging nod when their eyes met. Falman hesitated before straightening his posture and focusing back in on Fullmetal, far more determined than before.

 _“_ You’re smarter than I am. Aren’t you?”

Fullmetal shrugged.

 _“_ I don’t know. Maybe. What’s it matter?”

And just like that, whatever dam of emotions Falman had been keeping to himself broke. Falman took a firm step forward and did something Kain had never expected of him: he yelled.

 _“_ Because I almost got you killed! Because I – I made it worse. I distracted you and I just… I ran. I _ran_ and left you to deal with the chimeras on your own! If I could-could contribute to this fight against the Führer in ways that you couldn’t then I could maybe – _maybe_ – start to feel okay about what happened, but you’re _smarter_ than me! You can do everything I can do, only _faster_.”

Fullmetal hurriedly held his hands up to stop Falman’s rant.

 _“_ Woah there. The hell are you talking about? You got the chimeras to separate – they’re a fuck ton worse in a pack, trust me – and got Al the info he needed. You played to your strengths, and that’s all anyone can do.”

Falman tossed his hands up, for once uncaring of the scene he was making. Kain felt his heart break as he heard Falman say, _“Maybe I don’t want my strengths to be running away!”_

Fullmetal had no such sympathies.

 _“_ If you honestly think that you sticking around unarmed would have made you less of a distraction than Mustang’s giving you way more credit than you deserve. I mean, do you think that anyone else would have been okay out there with me?”

 _“_ Mustang would have—”

 _“_ Mustang’s an alchemist who’s pretty much trash without his gloves. Now you look around this room and tell me who here is useful without a gun.” Fullmetal didn’t wait for Falman to actually respond before continuing, “Exactly. So shut up and focus on what you _can_ do instead of what you _want_ to do.”

 _“_ What if you had died for me?”

 _“_ Then I’d be dead and you’d still be working on this geographic profile. And _that’s_ what matters. Because right now we’re chasing our tails trying to catch up with Brad’s agenda, and the only shadow of a lead that I’ve seen is right here.”

Fullmetal splayed his hand on the map.

 _“_ I may be capable of doing your job, but we don’t think the same. Backtracking what Brad has done geographically to figure out what he’ll do next is the last thing that would have occurred to me. So don’t give me that bullshit about me being worth more than you or whatever the fuck else. I’ve got your back, and I’m glad you’ve got mine. So let’s move past what we can’t change and focus on what we’re about to do: Kick Brad’s ass. Sound good?”

Falman stared at Fullmetal disbelievingly before the tension visibly drained out of him. Kain breathed a sigh of relief as Fullmetal held out a hand for Falman to shake.

Falman took a moment to stare unsurely, like he wasn’t quite sure he was really allowed to accept. When Falman finally reached forward, his hand was shaking. Fullmetal closed the distance with a confidence as bright and purposeful as Mustang’s. Even from across the room Kain could see the way Falman’s all-consuming guilt crumbled to make room for Fullmetal’s easy acceptance, and he knew that if Fullmetal asked Falman to do anything—anything at all—

 _“_ It’ll be an honor.”

  



	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jean liked to think he was brave.

Not that he jumped into burning buildings to save orphans on a regular basis or anything. He just also didn’t run away from things that needed facing. At least, that was what he thought before watching Falman make himself genuinely vulnerable.

Jean didn’t run from a lot, but he also didn’t seek out things that made him uncomfortable. He didn’t face his fears without necessity. He didn’t confront the issues he felt embarrassed or ashamed about, and in that, he was a coward.

While he didn’t mind being average or failing sometimes or even being the butt of most jokes at the office, he did mind being a coward.

Jean discreetly watched Falman and Fullmetal pour over a map for almost forty-five minutes before deciding that (a) he wanted to be as brave as Falman, (b) he really did need advice, and most importantly (c) he was willing to risk Hawkeye’s wrath for it. He scooted his chair back before he could change his mind, lit another cigarette to procrastinate just a second longer, and cleared his throat.

Fullmetal was the only one who didn’t look up.

After a moment, Falman caught on to who Jean actually wanted to talk to and got Fullmetal’s attention. Once he had the _entire_ room staring him down, Jean cleared his throat once more. For real this time.

 _“_ There’s a, uh, there’s a thing coming up, and I’m looking for a date.”

Fullmetal’s unsure, where-are-you-going-with-this expression made Jean quickly re-think his wording.

 _“_ Shit, no! I didn’t mean you. I like chicks! Women all the way. Not that there’s anything wrong with liking guys, but—let me start over. I can’t get a date, and you’re popular. How do you do it?”

Jean saw Breda’s mocking grin and Fuery’s humorous smile. He watched Falman’s lips twitch upwards ( _though that was more of a victory considering the last few days_ ) and Hawkeye’s un-amused stare. He knew they had heard him pining and joking a million and a half times before. He knew they thought this was a joke. Every time Jean brought it up with Mustang, that was how he treated it.

In reality, he was lonely. He wanted someone to take on dates while dreaming of building a future together. He wanted someone to dote on. He wanted someone who loved him.

Or even just liked him a little.

So this time Jean pushed past the embarrassment burning in his chest – the urge to laugh it off as something he didn’t actually care about – and focused seriously on Fullmetal.

In turn, Fullmetal leaned back in his chair, much more at ease now that Jean had explained better.

 _“_ I don’t really _do_ anything. Hell, the only person I’ve ever even sort-of dated is Mustang, and we’re pretty fucked up.”

Jean sputtered at the thought of the boss man being Fullmetal’s only significant other ever.

 _“_ Seriously? But you… you could get anyone!”

 _“_ I don’t really want anyone. Who is it you’re trying to get a date with?”

Jean didn’t miss the irony when he responded: “ _Anyone_ . I just, I can’t get a date. I can’t. It doesn’t matter what I do. No girl will go out with me! And I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve _tried_.”

Fullmetal grimaced, sighed, and then said, “You sure you don’t want to ask someone else about this stuff?”

 _“_ Positive.”

Fullmetal glanced around the room, causing everyone other than Hawkeye to return to pretending to do work.

 _“_ Okay then… Shit. I don’t know. What kind of girls do you go for?”

 _“_ I dunno. Pretty girls.”

 _“_ What do you talk about?”

It dawned on Jean that Fullmetal was actually listening to him, and that gave him confidence he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. He leaned eagerly forward, uncaring of the way Hawkeye’s gun cocked.

 _“_ Depends on the girl. I always try and talk about things they like. Like flowers or their hair or stuff like that. But be tough about it, you know? Girls like guys who appreciate girly stuff while still being manly enough to beat up anyone who looks at them wrong.” Jean blushed as he further admitted, “I uh, I always try and do what I think the boss man would do.”

It was endlessly embarrassing, but as someone who was kind-of-sort-of dating Mustang, Jean figured Fullmetal would understand. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Fullmetal snorted, a mocking grin stretching his lips.

 _“_ Well, there’s your fucking problem. Mustang’s an ass, and all acting like him will do is get you dumped.”

 _“_ Yeah right.”

 _“_ I’m serious. Have you ever seen him in a serious relationship? Like, ever? No. Because Mustang can get a date just fine, but he can’t keep one. The bastard’s pretty much incapable of forming meaningful relationships. So start with ditching the Imitate-Mustang plan. You said you talk to them about flowers and shit. Do you like that?”

 _“_ Not really.”

 _“_ Then why talk about it?”

 _“_ I dunno. ‘Cause that’s what girls like.”

Fullmetal rolled his eyes.

 _“_ Says who? _Mustang?_ How about next time you ask someone out, you find something in common? Something you both like talking about. Maybe a hobby.”

 _“_ Do girls like talking about hobbies?”

Fullmetal shrugged dismissively as he said, “Fuck if I know. But people come up to me all the time wanting to talk about chimeras and automail and the military, and I hate literally all of that shit. It’s depressing, boring, or both. I assume a lot of girls think the same thing about flowers in their hair or whatever. So… Yeah, talk about hobbies.”

Jean groaned.

 _“_ I don’t _have_ any hobbies. All I do is work, and I can’t talk about that with civilians.”

Golden eyes scanned the room before Fullmetal jabbed his thumb in Hawkeye’s direction and asked, “What about her?”

Jean nearly choked on his cigarette.

 _“_ _Hawkeye?”_

 _“_ Yeah. She works with you, so she’d be able to talk about work, and she’s crazy pretty. Why not?”

Hawkeye’s pistol un-cocked, and Jean very suddenly regretted the entire conversation.

 _“_ Because she-she’s— Hawkeye is— she’s Hawkeye!”

 _“_ So?”

 _“_ So I… we can’t… She’s _Hawkeye_.”

Jean stressed Hawkeye’s name until it was nearly a whine, but Fullmetal didn’t seem to care.

 _“_ Yeah, I got that much. Why’s she not an option?”

With that single, horrifying question in the open, Hawkeye put her gun away and the rest of the office stopped pretending to work. Jean turned his attention to an incredibly interesting smudge on the floor.

 _“_ Because she’s, you know… _Hawkeye_ . She’s smart and strong and, _yeah_ , crazy pretty. Only the boss man can get women like that.”

Fullmetal and Hawkeye exchanged a mortifying glance.

 _“_ That’s dumb. What do you think girls are? Stuff you get at the grocery store? There aren’t top-shelf girls and low-shelf girls, there are just girls. If you want to ask out someone like Hawkeye, just do it. Like,” Fullmetal turned to fully face Hawkeye, “what do you like to do for fun?”

 _“_ I enjoy going to the shooting range.”

 _“_ That’s awesome. I’ve never actually shot a gun before. Any chance you’d like to teach me?”

Hawkeye’s small, amused smile widened.

 _“_ I think that would be lovely.”

Fullmetal turned back to Jean as though he hadn’t just performed a miracle.

 _“_ Right. So then you set a date and time and whatever, but it won’t work unless you actually want to do it. Any relationship built on pretending to care is gonna flop. Romantic or not. It’s not about impressing her. It’s about actually liking each other. You should stop looking for just any girl and start looking for a girl you’d actually have fun spending time with. That’s what I’d do anyway.”

Jean sucked on his cigarette as he tried to figure out the least embarrassing way to say that not everyone had balls of steel and that it wasn’t reasonable to expect normal men like Jean to put themselves out there so carelessly. It ended up not mattering as Mustang terminated the conversation by entering the office. Mustang’s focus immediately zoned in on Fullmetal, who glared back.

 _“_ Fullmetal! You’re exactly the man I wanted to see.”

 _“_ Can’t say I feel the same.”

Mustang continued as though Fullmetal had complimented him.

 _“_ There’s a military appreciation dinner on Saturday—”

 _“_ Not interested.”

 _“—_ that your family has expressed an interest in attending.”

 _“_ Fucking seriously, Mustang? Didn’t you learn your lesson after the ball?”

Mustang painted on a patronizingly apologetic frown.

 _“_ Calm down, Edward. I didn’t invite them. Alphonse found the invitation in your mail and asked me if non-military personnel could attend. They’d quite like a night out.”

 _“_ Yeah? And how’d Al get my mail?”

Mustang waved a dismissive hand.

 _“_ I gave it to him.”

 _“_ Fucking bastard—”

 _“_ As I said, they seem very interested in attending.”

Fullmetal scoffed.

 _“_ Yeah? Well, they can go alone.”

 _“_ They can’t, actually. You have a plus one, and you have to be there to use it.”

 _“_ So what? I go with you and they can use our plus ones?”

 _“_ That’s certainly an option. I would be proud to have you as my date.”

 _“_ Fuck off. I’m not going to some dinner celebrating the military, and I’m definitely not going as your _arm-candy_. Can’t you just pull strings to get a couple extra tickets or something?”

And just like that, Mustang’s cat-got-the-canary smile came out. Jean’s mouth opened in a soundless realization of _this_ being what Mustang had been gunning for all along.

 _“_ Of course I can. And if it’ll make you happy, I’ll be glad to.”

Fullmetal sneered, no doubt irritated with himself for playing so easily into Mustang’s hand.

 _“_ What’s the catch?”

 _“_ Nothing much. We all abide by the laws of equivalent exchange here, and since it’s such a small favor, I’ll only ask a small favor in return.”

 _“_ Get to the point, Mustang.”

To his credit, Mustang didn’t falter at Fullmetal’s harsh dismissal of his charms.

 _“_ I have a lot of romantic acquaintances—”

 _“_ Fuck buddies.”

 _“—_ that don’t exactly agree with my decision to bond. Some of them are fairly certain you and I aren’t actually in a relationship.”

 _“_ We aren’t.”

 _“_ Yes. _I’m_ aware of that, and _you’re_ aware of that, but I would appreciate it very much if Lina Damascus believed otherwise.”

 _“_ What’s so special about her?”

 _“_ She’s…” Mustang took a moment to make a vague gesture with his hand as he searched for the right word, “exuberant.”

Fullmetal leaned more towards Jean and said, “See what I mean? The kind of women Mustang attracts are _exuberant_.”

Mustang glanced at Jean in a way that said he’d be reliving their humiliating conversation as soon as Fullmetal left. Before that, however, Jean was determined to enjoy the sight of the irresistible Roy Mustang getting brutally shot down.

 _“_ So just to be clear: I convince the crazy that we’re together and you get the tickets for Al and Win?”

Mustang nodded.

 _“_ Alright. When?”

 _“_ She’s making her way through security right now.”

 _“_ The fuck—”

As if on cue, the door opened to reveal a beautiful brunette with a small waist, large breasts, a perfect ass, and endless legs shown off by a miniskirt. She very may well have been one of the most beautiful women Jean had ever seen.

She didn’t even glance in his direction.

 _“_ Roy! I—oh. I see what’s going on here.”

 _“_ Lina. It’s wonderful to see you again. I don’t believe you’ve met my bond mate, Edward.”

Mustang walked the few feet over to stand behind Fullmetal’s chair, and Lina walked with him. She was almost heartbreakingly graceful in her incredibly high heels, making Jean wish not for the first time that he had even an ounce of Mustang’s charms.

 _“_ You’re right. I haven’t. But I don’t think I need to, either. After all, looking at him now I can see that he’s just a child. I doubt he’ll be able to hold your attention for long after this whole bond ordeal settles.” She turned to Fullmetal with a viciously sweet smile that somehow ruined her otherwise gorgeous face. “Have your fun, but never forget that Roy is mine.”

She spoke to Fullmetal like he was actually a little kid. In response, Fullmetal reached up, got a fistful of the front of Mustang’s uniform, and jerked him down for a kiss. Mustang only had a second to look surprised before he got lost in it.

The kiss didn’t look comfortable. Mustang was basically completely bent over while Fullmetal’s neck was cricked backwards over the chair. Their lips looked practically smushed together.

That being said, when Fullmetal carelessly shoved Mustang back to a standing position, the Colonel looked nothing short of dazed. Fullmetal instantly adopted a mockingly apologetic expression.

 _“_ Oh, shit. I’m sorry! From _that_ angle it looked like he was mine.”

 _“_ You… I hope you don’t think that means anything. He only looks at you like that because you’re in the beginning stages of bonding. The second you stop standing guard outside his office like a stray dog – the second I get a moment alone with him – he’ll forget all about you.”

 _“_ Be my guest. His office is right over there.”

Fullmetal pointed to Mustang’s office – with its closed blinds and heavy wooden door – without hesitation or care, causing Lina’s confidence to stutter.

She picked it up a few seconds later by upping her condescension and saying, “You would really trust _Roy Mustang_ alone with _me_ ? Behind closed doors where we could do anything? Where I would encourage him to do _anything._ ”

Fullmetal didn’t answer right away, instead choosing to give her a long, slow once-over. His penetrating stare was as confident as it was intensive, and it made Jean want to fidget just thinking about being on the other end of it. Fullmetal’s examination went on long enough to render Lina thoroughly uncomfortable.

When he finally finished his scrutiny, his lips stretched in a markedly patronizing grin.

 _“_ _Oh yeah.”_

Lina’s cheeks flushed in humiliation. Ocean blue eyes glanced over to Mustang, basically pleading for him to take Fullmetal’s offer for them to ensconce in Mustang’s office. Mustang, however, hadn’t yet looked away from Fullmetal. When the Colonel failed to respond to her enticing, Fullmetal went back to the map.

As though turning away from her wasn’t enough of a dismissal, Fullmetal then said, “Activation Cores stabilize within two weeks of bonding. Feel free to check back then.”

She lasted less than a minute longer before hurrying out of the room.

 _“_ You’re a lifesaver, Fullmetal.”

 _“_ Yeah, and you’re a pompous ass who owes Al some tickets to a fancy dinner.”

Fullmetal didn’t bother to look up and see the way Mustang was staring at him, and that was what convinced Jean that the blonde was right. Because Jean didn’t want someone who would only like him in the limelight.

He wanted someone who would look at him like he hung the stars even when he wasn’t looking back.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Core Energy Evaluations, like all other military functions, had a dress code. That code was a pair of military issued cargo pants, combat boots, and an Amestris Blue T-shirt.

Roy adhered to the dress code.

Edward did not.

Roy assumed Edward’s lack of conformity was a given, but the proctor (the same man who had initially interrogated Edward after the memorial stunt) appeared surprised.

 _“_ You’re out of uniform.”

 _“_ There was a uniform? Whoops.”

 _“_ There are spares in the storage room. Change.”

 _“_ Those are probably dirty.”

 _“_ They’re cleaned weekly.”

 _“_ There are none in my size.”

 _“_ We stocked your size last night, just in case.”

 _“_ I’m allergic.”

The proctor growled, “To what?”

 _“_ I dunno, but I am.” Fullmetal shrugged unapologetically. “So we ready to go or what? Because I don’t know about your schedule, but I’ve got other things to do.”

Edward jabbed a thumb toward the obstacle course, which was blocked off to the public aside from approved spectators. The proctor’s fist clenched around his clipboard, and despite their differences, Roy felt sorry for him. Forcing an Elric to do something was about as productive as washing mud.

The proctor saved himself a world of frustrations by deciding to ignore Edward’s dress code violations and move on.

 _“_ The obstacle course has seven stages. The first stage is a run. The second stage is jumping hurdles. The third stage requires you to climb a ten meter rock wall up to a small platform and then back down on the other side. Below the platform on the second side is a pool filled with freezing water. There are posts in the water for you to jump across, which acts as the fourth stage.

 _“_ The fifth stage is a mud crawl with barbed wire above you. The sixth stage is a free hanging rope. Ring the bell at the top. The seventh stage is another run. If you can’t do any part of the course, you can skip it, but we’ll add two minutes to your time. State Alchemists are required to complete the course within twenty minutes, though the average time is twelve. Any questions?”

Both Roy and Fullmetal shook their heads, so the proctor led them to the obstacle course. Fullmetal split off to go stand with Maes, Winry, and Alphonse in the observation area.

Roy walked over to the starting line and awaited the signal. He had often used this course to run himself ragged in hopes of distracting himself from his nightmares. If asked, he could probably do it in his sleep.

When the shot went off, so did Roy. His running was swift, his leaps were graceful, and his climbing was effortless. He hardly had to look to know which hand and foot-holds to use. Balancing across the poles was easy, and he managed to go through the mud crawl without getting anything in his hair. The free-hanging rope was the hardest part, but it always was. He discarded his mud-wet gloves to allow for a better grip and got to climbing. The bell sounded like victory, and he only climbed halfway back down before dropping and running to the finish line.

The proctor hit the stopwatch.

 _“_ Six minutes, thirty-seven seconds.”

Twenty seconds better than his record. Not bad.

The proctor nodded to Roy, no doubt expecting the results, before motioning Edward over. Fullmetal held up a hand, almost as if tag-teaming Roy out with a high-five. Roy met the hand with a solid _clap_ and made his way to the observation area. Maes was waiting with a towel and bottled water.

 _“_ You beat your record.”

 _“_ I noticed.”

Edward stood boredly at the starting line, his obnoxiously red cloak replaced with a white-trimmed black jacket.

The starting shot went off, and Edward walked casually to the hurdles. He then hopped up onto one of the hurdles, holding out his arms as he attempted to balance on the thin metal.

Winry leaned forward as though being closer would somehow make Edward’s actions less baffling.

 _“_ What is that bonehead doing?”

Fullmetal proceeded to leap from hurdle to hurdle, knocking down almost every one of them in the process, and it was in glancing at the proctor that Roy found the answer.

Fullmetal was pissing them off.

Edward moved off to the side when he got to the climbing wall, and for a second Roy thought he was just going to go around. Then the blonde ran forward and used a nearby tree to parkour his way up.

When Edward reached the top he leaned over the opposite edge of the platform, and Roy hoped he wasn’t about to do what he looked like he was about to do. The water was deep enough for a dive ( _just in case someone fell_ ) but it was below freezing. Choosing to jump would be nothing short of stupid.

Edward backed up, took three strides across the platform, and dove.

He was surprisingly graceful in the air, twisting his body and doing two full flips before entering the water without making a splash.

Maes whistled lowly.

 _“_ I didn’t know he could dive.”

Alphonse stared at the water with a frown that reflected Roy’s.

 _“_ Brother likes to work as much of his body as he can in as short a time as he can. Diving and climbing are easy ways to do that.”

The next few seconds passed in silence, each one tenser than the last. By the minute mark, Alphonse shouted, “He isn’t coming up! Go help him!”

The proctor held up a hand to the unsure medic, waiting another full thirty seconds before waving them on.

That was when Fullmetal resurfaced.

He gasped for air at the wall on the other end on the pool before pulling himself up in a single motion and breaking into a sprint. Roy’s first thought was that Fullmetal intended to jump across the posts that held the barbed wire over the mud. Then he noticed Edward’s speed and trajectory and withheld a curse.

No sooner than Roy figured it out, Edward tipped backwards. He used his speed and the combined slickness of his wet clothes and the mud to slide beneath the barbed wire, clear across the pit. He then ran to the rope, stopped, picked up a rock, and tossed it upwards. When the bell clanged, he grabbed Roy’s discarded gloves and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He walked the rest of the way to the finish line.

 _“_ What’s my time?”

 _“_ Do it again.”

 _“_ Nah. Once is good enough for me.”

 _“_ Lieutenant Colonel Elric, you finished in less than four minutes, but you did it without properly completing a single obstacle! That’s fourteen minutes of penalty time! If you don’t do it again, you’ll have one of the highest times possible. Do you understand?”

Edward grinned and ran a muddy hand through his hair, smearing some of it on his forehead and slicking half his bangs back. Roy ignored the way Edward’s confident, messy figure made his stomach do flips to focus on the hopes that this would be the worst of his rebellion.

 _“_ Perfect.”

The proctor stared incredulously.

 _“_ Seventeen minutes, forty-seven seconds. You both have ten minutes to shower and change before having your Cores measured. Keep in mind that Core measurements are not only public but that Führer King Bradley himself will be there. I _suggest_ you dress to protocol.”

The proctor shot a pointed look at Edward, who ignored it in favor of turning to his family. When he saw their disapproving and exasperated looks, he changed course yet again to head straight for the changing area. Roy glanced at Maes, who nodded back, before following.

Knowing that ten minutes really meant seven, Roy stripped as soon as the door was closed. Fullmetal sat casually on a bench, not even pretending not to look at Roy’s nudity.

Roy, in turn, didn’t bother to try and hide himself as he hopped into the shower.

 _“_ Are you intending to make us late?”

 _“_ Nah. I’m going like this.”

Roy glanced over at Edward’s soaked, mud-covered, non-uniformed body before meeting wild, intelligent eyes and accepting that there was nothing he could do about it.

Roy exited the shower, grabbed a clean pair of gloves, and snapped to dry himself. In all technicality the scarred version on his hand worked well enough, but he had made adjustments to the circle since carving it into himself and preferred the one on his gloves.

Once he was dry and visibly clean, he got dressed. Edward continued to stare.

 _“_ Like what you see?”

 _“_ Did I get more handsome after we bonded?”

Roy’s brows furrowed.

 _“_ What?”

 _“_ You heard me.”

 _“_ Fullmetal, I don’t— No. You didn’t get more handsome.” Roy stopped looking at Edward as he bent to tie his shoes. “I’ve always found you incredibly attractive, and you’ve only grown more attractive throughout the years. Regardless of bonding, you are _breathtakingly_ handsome.”

Roy stood and looked back just in time to watch Edward’s mud-speckled cheeks flush pink.

 _“_ Why? Did _I_ get more handsome?”

 _“_ Shut up, Mustang.”

 _“_ I did, didn’t I?”

 _“_ I’m not talking to you about this.”

 _“_ How much more handsome? I mean, it’s hard to think that I could be more handsome than I already am, but if that’s possible, I’d like to—”

 _“_ Shut up! You didn’t get more handsome! I just… noticed it more. So put your ego away.”

 _“_ I’m afraid that’s not possible. The Alchemist of the People just told me I’m handsome. I’ll be riding this high for _days_.”

Edward groaned.

 _“_ Tell me, Fullmetal. What kind of handsome am I? Do I make your heart skip a beat? Do I make you weak in the knees? Do I put butterflies in your stomach? Or are all of your reactions south of the border?”

Roy held the door open for Edward in an overly dramatic show of chivalry, and Edward muttered something that Roy couldn’t hear as he walked by.

 _“_ What was that?”

Without turning around, Fullmetal shouted, “I said all of them!” and despite the angry tone, the admission made Roy feel all of them back.

The proctor was waiting for them outside. He glared at Edward and then escorted them to the Core Evaluation Center, which was a large, open field with a stage in the center. It was available for the use of everyone in Central, though it could be reserved for families, schools, and the military. Despite being open on all sides, the area was packed. Cameras flashed long before Roy could even see Core reader.

The Führer stood next to the Core reader, which was a large, thin black stone held up like a gong. Attached to that stone was a box reading 00.00. They were led to the stage where they stood behind the Führer at parade rest. Well, Roy stood at parade rest. Edward put his hands back in his pockets and tried to find something to lean against.

The Führer approached the podium as soon as they were situated.

 _“_ What a turn-out.”

Bradley chuckled as the crowd cheered.

 _“_ Normally these re-measurements are a rather drab affair. I almost don’t know what to say.” He laughed again. The crowd laughed with him. “As the majority of you know, two of our alchemists have recently bonded. Sometimes, bonding can cause Cores to become stronger. This is a simple way to check and re-take measurements for our records. That way we can be sure to place our soldiers where they’ll do the most good. Now, I know I’m not the reason you’re all here today, so without further ado, we’ll take the measurements. Colonel Mustang?”

The crowd cheered as Roy made his way over to Bradley, shook his hand, and proceeded to the black stone. He placed a gloved hand on the center of the stone, which turned dark red on contact. Dark red signified an Activation Fire Core. Roy watched as the numbers started to rise in the connected measuring device.

Weak Cores generally measured around 10.

Most Cores were around 30.

Roy’s measured out at 63.77, which was 10 higher than his last measurement.

The crowd cheered. Roy smiled and went back to parade rest at the back of the stage.

 _“_ Impressive! Next, of course, is Lieutenant Colonel Elric.”

Edward moved to the Führer and grinned as he stuck out a dirty, muddy glove. The Führer didn’t hesitate to shake his hand, but the underlying irritation was clear. At least to Roy.

 _“_ Were the showers not to your liking?”

The crowd’s laughter drowned out Fullmetal’s response, and the blonde strode over to the once-again black stone. It turned light red and the numbers started rising before he made contact. When his hand did finally touch stone, the measurement counter became a blur of numbers. It rose for a full twenty seconds before the screen finally stopped on a baffling string of dashes.

Fullmetal took his hand off of the stone, backed up far enough for it to resettle at 00.00, and tried again. The process repeated itself, and this time there was no cheering.

Fullmetal was too strong to be measured.

 _They_ were too strong to be measured.

Bradley was quick to step forward in hopes of containing the outcome of their measurement before it could spread too far.

 _“_ It looks as though we’re having some technical difficulties. Always the odd one out, isn’t he?” Bradley laughed, but it was hollow. “It seems as though we’ll have to look into other methods of measurement, though we’ll be sure to update the records as soon as we’re able. As always, State Alchemist Core levels can be accessed in the Central archives. Thank you all for coming out.”

Thousands of whispers, questions, and speculations filled the air as Bradley left the podium to speak with his head adviser. Fullmetal was quick to take his place.

 _“_ Hello?”

Fullmetal tapped on the microphone, and the crowd immediately quieted.

 _“_ I don’t usually do speeches or whatever, and I probably won’t ever do one again, so shut the fuck up and listen to me. First off, the next reporter who asks me about Mustang’s and my bond will get punched in the face.”

The crowd started to laugh, but Edward’s public speaking skills were less than spectacular, so he just talked over them.

 _“_ If you have a question for me, make it about the chimera problem currently wrecking Central. Anyone who asks me anything else is placing some stupid gossip over the safety of the people, and that’s bullshit. I asked Mustang to bond with me because my Core was giving out, and he gave up his chance to bond with someone else to save my life. That’s all there is to it.”

Questions immediately rose from the press in the front, and Edward glared until they quieted down.

 _“_ As I was saying, I want to focus on protecting our city. That means protecting ourselves. On Saturday, I’m going to be in Central Park giving self-defense lessons. Mustang’s unit has offered to help me. If anyone else – anyone with knowledge of self-defense – wants to help, I’ll be there Friday, too. If you could come and let us know what you’re good at and when you can be there Saturday, we’ll find something for you to do.

 _“_ Whether or not you can come Saturday, it’s important for you to be aware of the dangers currently facing Central. I know that the military is powerful and seems to have an endless amount of people and resources, but it’s clearly not doing its job, so we need to step up. Be alert. Walk home in groups. Let friends and family and neighbors know your schedule so that if something goes wrong, they’ll be able to get help right away. Talk to each other. Look out for each other. Count on each other as a _community_.”

Edward shot a determined, unapologetic glance at Roy, who immediately knew he wasn’t going to like whatever was next.

 _“_ Choose your contacts carefully, and don’t trust anyone you don’t personally know. Someone being in the military doesn’t mean they’re trustworthy or good. It just means they’re in the military. Trust your gut. If something feels wrong, go ahead and assume it is. And if you get caught alone and someone tells you to quietly come with them, _scream_. Because death is better than whatever they’re going to turn you into.

 _“_ Now I’m sure that plenty of you are thinking this is a stupid stunt because I’ve got issues with the military or it’ll help Mustang’s campaign or something equally dumb. Well, fuck you. I’m not saying any of this because I want you to live in fear. I’m saying it because I want you to _live_. Because you deserve to know what’s going on. Because if I were in your place, I would want to know.”

Edward took a deep breath.

 _“_ I think Führer King Bradley is behind the attacks.”

The crowd erupted. Bradley couldn’t hide his shock and anger fast enough, and Roy genuinely wanted to punch Fullmetal for escalating the situation so quickly and publicly. Making himself the focal point of the Führer's formidable rage wasn’t a strategy. It was a death sentence.

Fear and anger and betrayal all fought for dominance in Roy’s chest, but his hands were tied. Fullmetal had the stage.

Fullmetal raised a calm hand and waited for the panic to settle before speaking again.

 _“_ I could be wrong. I _hope_ I’m wrong. Because if I’m right then the man we elected to protect us is the one killing us. Seemingly endless power. Seemingly endless resources. Seemingly endless ways to abuse it all. And if you don’t believe me, that’s fine. If you trust Brad to walk you home at night, let him. But if you don’t, then _don’t_.

 _“_ I can’t make you band together and start looking out for each other. I can’t be on every street corner and predict when every attack will happen. But you all can. Because if we stand together then we _are_ everywhere. We have a choice between trusting our government to defend us or standing up and defending ourselves!

 _“_ And maybe _this_ is protection. Maybe the government will protect us from invaders and let us live cushy lives as long as we’re willing to do what they want, when they want it. Honestly? I don’t give a fuck. All I can say for sure is that my people are under attack, and every single incident is being swept under the rug! Every person who stands up to help is being pushed back down! I don’t know about you, but if the protection we’ve been promised comes at the cost of our freedom, then _I don’t want_ _it!_

 _“_ Resembool, Ishval, Central, Kanama, Asbec—it doesn’t matter where you come from. It matters that you’re here. Yes, Amestris is a country, and yes, Central is a city. But that’s not all they are. _We_ are Central. _We_ are Amestris. And that means _we_ have to stand up for ourselves! I was born in Resembool, but Central is my home. Help me protect it.”

Fullmetal lifted his hands from the podium and stepped back, signaling the end of his speech.

The responding roar of the crowd was _deafening_.

 


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

When Edward entered Roy’s study, Roy fought back the urge to leave. He had locked himself away for two reasons only: to find a positive spin on Fullmetal’s nightmare of a press conference and to avoid his bond mate. With the sheer severity of his anger continuing to boil his blood hours after the impromptu speech, Roy would currently rather speak to the Führer than Edward.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have that choice.

Edward stared at him for just long enough to understand that Roy was not in the mood to talk before stupidly opening his mouth and starting a conversation.

“Look, I know you’re mad, but I need you to hear me out.”

“Mad? You think I’m _mad_?”

“Alright, you’re fucking pissed. And you’ve got every right to be. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Didn’t tell me sooner? Fullmetal, you didn’t tell me at all!”

“I told you I was going to talk to the people!”

“You _blindsided_ me!”

Roy stood from his chair and slammed his hands on his desk to keep himself from going around it.

“We agreed that we can’t spell everything out for each other! I understand that I can’t always plan for your actions, and I thought you understood my need to prepare for everything else. So if you’re going to do something reckless like say, I don’t know, launch a political attack on the Führer, I would like to _plan for it!”_

“I know, and I’m sorry already! I was trying to help—”

“Help? You do understand that you’re supposed to be my partner, not my enemy, don’t you? Because I have people who depend on me and real-world issues that need solving, but all I’m doing is running around trying to fix what you break!”

“Would you calm down? I didn’t do it on a whim. I planned ahead and took countermeasures.”

“ _Countermeasures_. Like what, having me clean up after you? I guess that makes sense seeing as that’s what happens every time you decide to run off on an impulse just to suit your own ego.”

“My ego?”

Edward stepped forward with a challenge in his stance, and the ever-controlled anger inside of Roy flexed at the prospect of a fight.

“You think this is about my _ego_? This is about the millions of innocent people Brad’s trying to slaughter! Without knowing what they’re fighting against – that they should be fighting against anything at all – they’re as good as dead!”

“Bullshit! All you’ve done is cause a panic! You aren’t _protecting_ them. You’re making it worse! The Führer is going to use this little stunt to slander you, discredit me, and glorify himself! Then he’s going to kill you.”

“You’re the one that said to use my resources as the Alchemist of the People!”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean _this_! If you had just stopped and thought about it—”

“I did! I’ve thought this through, and if you would just shut up and listen to me—”

“If this is your height of thinking things through, it’s no wonder you lost your limbs. You never think about anyone other than yourself and what you want! You may dress it up as a moral crusade, but all you are is selfish!”

Roy saw the hurt and disbelief flash across Fullmetal’s face before it could be stowed away behind the anger, and Roy’s Core hitched in a warning to stop. A much larger part of Roy, however, was furious, and hurting the invincible Fullmetal Alchemist – the man who got them into this mess in the first place – felt _good_.

“Fuck you! I did think it through! I pushed Greeling away and arranged ways for the people closest to me to be safer—”

“Oh? And who’s going to keep me safe? _You?_ You can hardly protect yourself.”

Edward shifted back in something akin to a flinch, and Roy noticed for the first time that Fullmetal was holding a small white box with a blue ribbon around it.

“I protect people just fine! And it may be hard to remember from all the way up on your high horse, but you’re the one who chose to work with me! You knew what you were getting into when you bonded us!”

“ _Maybe I didn’t!”_

Edward’s anger dropped to reveal wariness, and Roy could see something similar to fear lurking just beyond that. His Core jerked, begging him to heal the hurt already showing on his bond mate, but Roy choked it down.

“You don’t mean that. You said—”

“Well that was before you publicly challenged the Führer's allegiance to his country. Because I thought that if – _if_ – you did something this stupid then you would at least have the _iota_ of respect necessary to warn me first. This wasn’t just being left out of the loop, it was a slap in the face. And damn me, Fullmetal, but I thought you were _smarter_ than that.”

And there it was. The _hurt_. Fullmetal tried to hide it, but he had always been a terrible liar.

“I was… I meant to tell you. I wanted to tell you. I just knew you wouldn’t like it.”

“So you decided it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission? Of all the _childish_ —Get out.”

“What?”

“Out.”

Fullmetal’s incredulous expression became angry, and he tossed the box in the trash as he turned and left with a muttered, “Whatever.”

Roy sat back down and returned to staring at his still-untouched paperwork feeling even worse than before Fullmetal’s visit.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Selim calmly watched as his father trashed the living room. His mother was in her bedroom pretending her husband wasn’t a monster, but Selim had no such interests. Selim was the embodiment of wrath. He knew anger intimately well, and Edward Elric had made Selim’s father _angry_. Really, genuinely angry.

To be honest, it was disappointing.

He had seen his father mad before, of course. It was usually after an irritating report from one of his lackeys, but he also usually handled it better. Now, with his image taking a large hit and his public persona coming into question, he was consumed by his rage.

Selim, who was always angry, at best, knew how hard it could be to overcome the temptation anger brought. He also knew that anger was a weapon meant for decimating shields. If fury could be properly focused into malice, its aim always rang true. It was anger that allowed people to realize what would hurt their opponents most and anger which gave them the push necessary to go through with it. To destroy someone which they otherwise may have spared.

Selim knew when it was appropriate to let his anger show. He knew who he could reveal his frustrations to without worry of repercussion. He knew how to utilize his rage to its fullest extent and never to let it go to waste.

While Selim’s father could handle getting mad, he was apparently incapable of molding raw fury into something useful. It was worse than disappointing.

It was _disdainful_.

The man who currently controlled Selim’s schedule was breaking things to release his frustrations when he should be honing them into something stronger and better. Something more deadly.

Selim understood that this was his father’s way of calming down enough to take control, but all all he saw was the discarding of vital resources. The Führer's anger could be _grand_ , and he was wasting it on vases and tables.

Selim didn’t have any particular urge to help Gerard with his scheme, but he didn’t have any particular urge to be the son of an embarrassment, either. He supposed the final decision depended on how his father chose to recover from this incident. Hopefully it would be with more grace than he was currently bestowing on the living room.

For his sake.

**(***Intertwined***)**

_Even with Mustang’s lips connected so fervently to his, Ed could hardly believe they were doing this. It was one thing to make out in the janitor’s closet. It was another matter entirely to lie naked in Mustang’s bed while the Colonel ravaged him._

_But his kisses felt good, and Ed wasn’t in any state to turn away offered affection._

_Ed made to spread his legs further only to find his automail leg tangled in the sheets. Mustang nipped at his hip before kissing his way back up Ed’s chest, a caring smile shaping his lips between each kiss. Mustang’s lips met Ed’s again, and Ed attempted to draw his bond mate closer only to be stopped by another sheet over his automail arm._

“ _You’re gorgeous, Fullmetal.”_

_Ed’s attention turned back to that kind, caring smile as nausea bubbled in his throat. Mustang was covering him up. He liked Ed, just not the deformities that came with him._

_Mustang leaned forward again as Ed squirmed back, and Mustang’s smile stretched to a grin and then to a maw as a chimera ripped through his skin to go for Ed’s throat. Ed rolled to the side, suddenly clothed and free from the sheets._

_He hated his hesitation as he saw familiar obsidian eyes staring back at him from the face of the chimera, and then it attacked. Ed did his best to dodge, but it was faster than anything he had faced before. It bowled him over again and again, each time taking another pound of flesh._

_Knowing that he didn’t have a choice and that this thing was no longer Mustang, Ed closed his eyes and transmuted his lance into existence. As it approached from behind, he turned to strike on instinct. His lance pierced flesh as easily as ever, though it wasn’t a chimera Ed found leaning over him when he opened his eyes._

_It was Greeling._

_Greeling coughed, not even having time to question Ed’s betrayal before his eyes began to glaze over._

“ _No!”_

Ed awoke with a start. His mind took terrifying seconds to catch up to the fact that he was on a bench. His breaths were slow and shaky, and he buried his face in trembling hands as he separated fiction from reality.

Greeling wasn’t dead.

Mustang wasn’t a chimera.

He was sleeping on a bench instead of in his bed because he and Mustang had gotten into an argument, and Ed was too much of a coward to go find out where it left them. Because as much as Ed disliked Mustang, he also wanted to go on another date. It was confusing and exhausting and exhilarating and quite possibly all-for-naught seeing as this time Ed may have fucked it up beyond repair.

Mustang was furious, and Ed couldn’t blame him. Had a few of Mustang’s comments crossed the line? Definitely. But Ed could relate to the blinding rage that caused him to cross them.

Besides, Mustang’s most harmful shots weren’t even especially volatile. They were just hard to hear. After all these weeks, Ed was finally starting to believe that he and Mustang could actually have something. He didn’t know if it could be classified as a crush or what, but he definitely _felt_ , and that was more than he had even hoped for in the past.

So of course he had to pull a stunt that would make Mustang second-guess whether or not he wanted Ed.

The thought of Mustang realizing that Ed was more trouble than he was worth made tears burn the back of Ed’s eyes, which in turn made Ed angrily blink them back. He had been through so much worse than a possible break-up with a guy he wasn’t even dating that this pain shouldn’t even register on the scale.

But it did.

It did, and it made Ed feel just as selfish as Mustang had said. People needed him. Lives depended on him. And he was sulking on a bench over a fight with his bond mate. It was ridiculous and childish and brought Ed right back to the dilemma which had him making the speech in the first place.

Protect his friends.

Protect the people.

Ed thought he could do both. He hoped he could do both. He tried to do both.

If he were being honest with himself, he had known this was a possibility. Giving Mustang a pair of gloves didn’t make up for going behind his back on such a big maneuver. At the same time, Ed _couldn’t_ have spoken to all of those people without warning them.

Maybe keeping the masses in the dark was the smarter move politically, but it felt like murder.

Mustang claimed Ed didn’t think things through, but he did. He was genuinely prepared for the worst possible outcome, and that was exactly why he let himself sleep on a bench instead of manning up and confronting his bond mate. Because if everything had to go downhill, it could go downhill _tomorrow_.

Ed knew that Mustang might not forgive him. He was well-aware of the possibility of Brad sniping him out of nowhere for his slander. But if his life was the price to pay for the safety of millions of others, wasn’t that cheap?

Ed’s Core twinged painfully as his time apart from Mustang started to stretch too far, and Ed ignored it.

He did what he had to do, and he would accept the consequences.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy couldn’t sleep.

He was tired, he was in bed, his eyes were closed, but he couldn’t sleep. He would like to blame it on his Core's need to be close to his bond mate, but Roy didn’t make a habit of lying to himself.

He had heard Edward slam the door shortly after their argument ended, and he hadn’t heard it open again. It was nearly four in the morning, and Edward had left barely past ten at night. Six hours of sulking should have been plenty enough to cool Edward’s temper and bring him home.

Only it hadn’t been Edward’s temper that was out of check, had it?

For once, Fullmetal had been the one trying to placate the situation while Roy sought the fight. Not that Fullmetal hadn’t deserved to be berated for his stupidity. The speech itself was a terrible idea, and the betrayal was only heightened Fullmetal going against their base agreement to do it. “Don’t be a loose cannon” wasn’t a hard rule to follow.

Unfortunately, as much as anger was his reason, it wasn’t an excuse. Especially since Edward had been approaching him to apologize.

Roy’s thoughts flitted back to the white box still sitting in the trash can in his study, and he was tempted for the umpteenth time to go get it. Edward wasn’t the type to give gifts, and as such it was probably something small and cliché like chocolates. It was an apology bought on the way home as Edward realized he had done something ridiculously stupid, but it was also the first thing that Edward had bought specifically for Roy.

Half-assed apology chocolates or not, Roy wanted it.

That being said, he had hurt Edward enough for the blonde to prefer Roy’s gift go to the wastebasket, and Roy felt guilty enough to respect that. Or at least he had felt guilty enough to respect it for the past six hours. Now he was tired and guilty and worried, and if he couldn’t chase Edward down, he could at least see what Edward meant to apologize with.

Accepting that his bond mate likely wouldn’t be back any time soon, Roy gave up his attempt at respecting wishes and returned to the study. The little white box was lighter than expected. Roy shook it once, just in case he could tell what it was from a sound. If he could tell then he would be able to put it back in the trash, curiosity sated, and continue waiting for Edward.

Fortunately or unfortunately one, the box was quiet. Roy undid the ribbon and lifted the top, his mouth opening in soundless surprise as he took in the complex array inside.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Not only did it have a litany of runes that Roy couldn’t identify, the only Latin word he could read was “Ignis.” _Fire._ On top of that, there was a circle weaving itself between the outer and inner circles, isolating what looked to be an equation. Numbers, as a general, iron-clad rule, did not belong in arrays.

Roy reached into the box with all the reverence of an architect about to touch a long-sought artifact. His hands ( _gloveless and ready for bed_ ) ghosted over the fine, expensive white cloth and the little bumps of red string where the array was embroidered. It was in that motion that he realized the cloth was thick and sturdy. His heartbeat picked up as he pulled the cloth out and it naturally unfolded to reveal the only thing that could shove his comment about Edward not thinking things through back in his face.

They were gloves.

Roy admired their quality, which was on par with if not above his own, and the meticulous work which must have gone into the circle on the back. The embroidery was masterful, but the array itself was what struck Roy the hardest. Edward had created it for _him_. Even with Edward’s genius, the creation must have taken hours. Days, even.

He pulled the gloves on slowly and carefully, and he sighed at the feel of them fully situated. They were stiff, though not as stiff as most new gloves, and Roy felt vaguely like he was trying on a tuxedo for his wedding.

Excited.

Desirable.

In love.

Roy concentrated on the smallest flame he could possibly make, well-aware of how much more difficult controlling fire had become after the combination of his Inheritance and bonding, and he snapped.

It was soft enough to border on just rubbing his fingers together, and awe fluttered in his chest as a minuscule flame danced before his eyes. He hadn’t even felt it. It wasn’t a matter of concentration and keeping it under control. He just _thought_ , and there it was. Roy snapped again, and a dozen more flames lit the room.

A ridiculously pleased laugh left Roy’s throat as he snapped using both hands, and the old flames dissipated to make room for new, larger ones. Roy stared at his hands as he allowed those flames to flicker out, his mind racing with the sheer amount of power literally at his fingertips.

Quite suddenly, he realized that he had to go find Edward.

During their argument, Roy had said that he couldn’t trust Edward to protect him in the midst of everything else, and _this_ was Edward’s response. Fullmetal never intended to protect Roy.

He intended to help Roy protect himself.

Roy put on clothes almost without looking, grabbed his keys, and was in the car before he realized he didn’t know where Edward had gone. His first guess was Maes’ home, but with how Elicia had been avoiding Edward, it was unlikely. Edward had also cut ties with Gerard, which would have been Roy’s second guess. Resembool was too far, and his home had burned to the ground years ago even if it weren’t.

Edward always found his home in people more than places, but all of his people were occupied. So where would he go to feel at home? For a man who spent more time traveling than in his dorm, that home-bound sense of safety and normalcy could be anywhere.

Realization lit Roy’s face, and he started the car.

Fifteen minutes of deserted road later, Roy pulled into the parking lot of the train station. He walked as quickly as he could without breaking into a jog and was more than relieved to see the signature gold and red of Edward Elric draped across a bench.

He took a confident step forward and then stopped. As much as “I’m sorry” was on the tip of his tongue, the only words he could think to follow his apology with were “I love you.”

For the life of him, Roy couldn’t think of when that had happened.

His crush on Fullmetal was nothing new, and his feelings had certainly been edging toward love, but the connection between the feeling and the words had never been never so strong before. It was startling in its intensity, and for once Roy had no doubts about how he felt. The only thing he wasn’t sure of was when. When, _exactly_ , had he slipped off the deep end into loving Fullmetal?

While his acknowledgment of the feeling was new, the feeling itself was not. It was something so deeply entangled in the rest of his thoughts and feelings about Edward that it _belonged_ there, and thus couldn’t have been new. At least, not that new.

Had he felt this way during Edward’s speech? Certainly not before their bonding, but not directly after their bonding, either. He hadn’t loved Edward on their first date, for sure. On their last date though?

Roy’s mind swam with pointless questions that he couldn’t answer, and he finally understood why Maes had brashly told Gracia he loved her during their first meeting. With emotions like _this_ swimming in his chest, how could he not want to say it aloud?

Roy was in love with Edward.

As he stood there, frozen by the sudden rush of realization, Edward tilted his head back. Golden eyes zeroed in on Roy while blonde brows scrunched.

“Mustang? What are you doing here?”

And just like that, Roy knew he couldn’t say it. This wasn’t a fairy tale, and proclaiming his love wouldn’t magically make Edward love him back. It would only make things more complicated. It may even make Edward run away again.

Roy schooled his expression into something that he hoped wasn’t love-sick and responded, “Looking for you. What else?”

Edward turned his attention back to the sky as Roy moved closer.

“I’m really not in the mood right now.”

“Yes, well I wasn’t in the mood when you attempted to apologize earlier, so I figure this makes us even. I’m sorry.”

Edward’s focus immediately swiveled back to Roy, and his body swiveled with it, putting him back in proper seating position.

“ _You’re_ sorry?”

“I said things I shouldn’t have. You also said things you shouldn’t have and in front of a lot more people, but at least you owned up to it. You thought it through beforehand.”

Golden eyes dilated before narrowing, and Roy splayed his hands to show off his new gloves in response to the unspoken suspicion.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me. Everything I did and everything you said, and you’re suddenly fine with it because of some gloves?”

“I didn’t come here to fight, Fullmetal.”

“You shouldn’t have come here at all. You made it pretty damn clear you don’t want to work with me, and you going back on that just because I gave you a shiny new toy doesn’t make me want to work with you.”

Roy took a deep breath as he reminded himself that he _didn’t_ want to fight with Fullmetal.

“The gloves aren’t what made me decide to keep working with you. They’re just what let me know that I wanted to come find you instead of waiting for you to come home. And I have been waiting. For hours now, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, well you may as well go back and keep waiting because I’m not leaving.”

“Then neither am I.”

Fullmetal glared, and Roy raised unimpressed brows.

“You really don’t know how to take a hint, do you?”

“I’m a politician. Of course I know how to take a hint. Unfortunately for you, I’m also your superior officer, and I can decide on my own whether or not I want to take it. I don’t.”

“You’re a real piece of work. You know that?”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Fullmetal watched Roy disbelievingly before finally scooting over. Roy took the invitation and, despite having plenty of room to himself, sat close enough for their thighs to touch. The relief was instant. Both Roy and Edward leaned back just to soak in the feeling of being connected again.

Fullmetal interrupted their peace with a taunting, “So you’re sorry, huh?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I still don’t like what you did or how you did it, but I should have heard you out. Not solely because these,” Roy outstretched his arms to better look at his new gloves. “are amazing either.”

Fullmetal scoffed.

“Just try not to fuck them up. I’ve got the array down, but they took forever to make.”

Roy’s brows rose to his hairline in genuine surprise.

“You _made_ these?”

“What else was I supposed to do? That array in the wrong hands could seriously mess shit up.”

“ _You_ know how to _sew?”_

Edward huffed and crossed his arms while pointedly looking away from Roy.

“Embroider, not sew. And yeah. Sort of. I got Gracia to teach me.” Edward stopped, hesitated, and then added, “They’re also water proof.”

“How?”

“It’s a pretty simple mutation array. They’ll be a little stiffer, but you won’t be rendered useless by the rain.”

Edward shrugged like it was no big deal while Roy pulled his hands back toward himself to stare at the gloves with new understanding. They were more than an apology present or complex alchemy. They were Edward learning a new skill and spending extra hours of arguably unnecessary work for Roy. Just for Roy.

Roy swallowed around a lump in his throat as he tried to find words that weren’t “I love you.”

He settled on, “I’ll take care of them. After all, they’re the most powerful weapon we’ve got. They make alchemy almost literally effortless. All the concentration and dedication I’ve put into flame alchemy to make it as easy as a snap of the fingers, and suddenly it’s even easier than that. They’re astounding.”

“It’s not the array. I mean, yeah, the array really fucking helps, but without the whole concentration-dedication part before that, it’d be pretty useless. You’re the one doing it.” Roy preened under the praise, and Edward must have seen that because he quickly re-directed their conversation with a gruff, “You did say some pretty shitty stuff though. I mean, bringing my automail into it? That was low.”

“Would you prefer I pretend not to notice you only have one arm and one leg? Because I can do that.”

“No. I’m just saying my automail is—”

“Automail? Why would you need automail with four completely functional, flesh limbs at your disposal?” Roy’s expression morphed from polite confusion to overly dramatic guilt. “Oh my god. Fullmetal, I am _so_ sorry. I never noticed that you’re missing half of your limbs before this very moment. That must be a sensitive topic, too. Don’t worry. I’ll never bring it up again.”

Edward jammed his elbow into Roy’s side, and Roy broke character to chuckle.

“You’re an ass, Mustang.”

But Edward was amused, and they both knew it. Unfortunately, the harm done by large-scale arguments couldn’t be undone by humor or gifts, and the uneasy air between them resettled.

“I know I am. Jokes aside, I really am sorry for what I said. Not that I didn’t mean it. I think you’re a brash, reckless idiot and I’ll probably never condone anything that comes out of your mouth politically. I just shouldn’t have said it the way that I did. And I should never have said I was unsure about us.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No. No, I’ve never been more sure. It just scared me to think of how likely you are to die, and I considered backing out of this… _whatever_ this is to avoid suffering through that.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What made you decide you want to keep doing… this? This whatever it is.”

“You did. With the gloves. With your speech. With how abysmally stupid and awe-inspiringly smart you are. I hate that you went behind my back – and I do mean _hate_ , Fullmetal – but I also respect your need to protect the people above all else. I want to be a part of that. I…”

_Love you. Want to be with you. Wish I knew how to make you love me back. Am willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. Feel honored to have a part in your life._

“I am _proud_ to be your bond mate.”

Edward stared at Roy with a mix of hope and doubt. Golden eyes flicked down to Roy’s lips, and that was all the invitation Roy needed to lean in.

The bench and the train station and their fight faded to nothing as Roy’s Core flared up and Edward’s mouth opened in warm invitation. Kissing Edward was the high Roy had been craving, and he cupped the back of Edward’s neck to pull him closer.

Edward responded by placing his hand on Roy’s waist and slipping a few metal fingers beneath Roy’s shirt. His grip was somewhere between gentle and needy, causing excited flutters to fill Roy’s stomach. Roy massaged the nape of Edward’s neck encouragingly, and he was rewarded by Edward pressing as close to Roy as their arrangement on the bench would allow.

Edward nipped at Roy’s bottom lip, which Roy took as permission to place his spare hand on Edward’s thigh, right at the junction of Edward’s flesh and automail. When Edward didn’t protest, Roy’s hand slid upward. His thumb drew lazy circles on Edward’s inner thigh, gently making its way closer to Edward’s groin.

That was when Edward pulled back.

“Mustang, we’re in a train station.”

But the protest was breathless and barely far enough from Roy’s lips to count as not-kissing, so Roy just pressed their lips back together. Edward fell into their re-initiated kiss with vigor, like Roy was water in the desert and he was _thirsty_. It took all of Roy’s control not to undo the button on Edward’s pants, and he curbed his desire by moving his hand to rest on the round edge of Edward’s ass instead.

Edward adjusted to give Roy room to fully grasp his ass, and Roy used that leverage to pull him closer. The metal hand on his waist moved down to his hip so Edward could better balance himself while the flesh counterpart threaded itself into Roy’s hair and Edward’s forearm braced itself on Roy’s chest.

The kiss was sweet and hot with just a tinge of desperation, and Roy’s hand slid from Edward’s ass up to his lower back. The curve of his waist coupled with the firmness of his ass had Roy groaning. Edward put more pressure in their kiss, his hand curling tighter into Roy’s hair, before he pulled away.

“We should stop.”

Roy’s lips connected with Edward’s collarbone, and Edward craned his neck to give him more room.

“Mhm.”

Edward breathed out a moan that turned into, “Mustang, seriously. We’re in a – _oh hell_ – we’re in a train station.”

“I know. It’s really hot.”

Edward laughed, and it sounded like success. Still, he pulled further away from Roy to stand. Roy reluctantly let him.

“We need to get back to the house. We need sleep.”

Roy ran a hand through his hair as he accepted that Edward had control here. They didn’t touch on the way to the car, but they walked closer than usual. Roy’s erection thought about waning through the drive, but every time he glanced at Edward only to see Edward glancing back, the blood rushed right back to his dick.

Edward, with his messy braid, kiss-bruised neck, and brand new set of bedroom eyes, was turning Roy on like nothing else. The walk from the car up to the library was almost torturous, and when Edward turned around instead of opening the door to his room, Roy wasn’t sure whether his heart or cock felt it more.

Edward was unlike anyone Roy had ever _whatever-this-was_ ed before. He was strong and forceful, and even after an argument followed by making up followed by making out, he didn’t look at Roy with stars in his eyes. He just looked.

“This was… something.”

“Right.”

“You’re still a bastard.”

Roy shifted, unsure if he was allowed to lean in for a final kiss. Edward shifted with him.

“I’d be oddly disappointed if you thought otherwise.”

Edward scoffed softly while his upper body leaned a minuscule amount closer to Roy. When he licked his lips, Roy didn’t even attempt not to stare. Every molecule in his body was begging for him to close the gap between them once more, and he swallowed thickly as he tried to fight through the nearly palpable sexual tension in the air.

Edward must have felt it too because his voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “You should probably go.”

“Yeah. I should just…”

Roy took a step away only to have Edward grasp his shirt and pull him back. Their lips smashed, their teeth clashed, and the passion reignited like it had never stopped. Roy’s hands shot straight to Edward’s waist while Edward’s hooked around Roy’s neck. The force of their joining caused them to crash against the library door, and neither of them cared.

Somehow, kissing Edward after fifteen minutes of separation was just as freeing as it was after hours and days and weeks. The only difference being that this time they had no reason to stop.

Roy’s hand left Edward’s waist to fumble for the doorknob, but he regretted it as soon as the door opened. Edward’s messiness, much like equivalent exchange and death, was inevitable. There wasn’t a single surface in the library not covered in books or notebooks or paper, and dear god, were those _arrays_ drawn on his _floor_?

Roy shut the door again.

Edward disconnected their lips to say, “What are you—” but Roy cut him off with another kiss and used the door as leverage to heft Edward’s formidable weight up to Roy’s hips. Edward caught on just as quickly with this as he did everything else, his legs wrapping firmly around Roy’s waist. It was core strength alone that kept Edward upright, and the ease with which he did it made Roy kiss him harder.

Roy carried Edward to his bedroom, and while it wasn’t easy, the weight was welcome. He squeezed Edward’s thighs, enjoying the way only one responded to the pressure, before tossing Edward onto the bed. Roy took a step toward the bed before hesitating and carefully tugging off his gloves.

Edward scoffed as Roy cautiously placed the gloves on his dresser, but before he could make a smart-ass comment, Roy covered Edward’s body with his own. He re-initiated their kiss only for Edward to flip them over.

He pinned Roy with an ease that had Roy’s erection throbbing, and it wasn’t until that moment that Roy understood the attraction that accompanied being with someone stronger than himself. Because while Roy was toned, Edward was ripped. He spent far more time working out and fighting than Roy, and it showed. His abs were chiseled is a way Roy’s hadn’t been since the war, and the flesh of his legs were muscled enough to rival the steel.

He was built. He was _powerful_. And Roy was so fucking turned on.

Then Edward sat up, legs boxing Roy in on either side, and tossed his cloak to the floor. He pulled his shirt over his head next, exposing those beautifully carved abs, and Roy felt his heart skip a beat. He had slept with dozens of people, all of whom could be considered stunning, but Edward outdid them with ease.

Edward’s shirt joined his cloak, and he tugged on the hem of Roy’s shirt in hopes it would do the same. Roy arched his back and tugged his shirt over his head, enjoying the way his erection rubbed against Edward’s in the process. By the time Roy’s shirt hit the floor, Edward had scooted back and untied the strings of Roy’s sweatpants.

That was the moment where Roy’s rational mind broke through the haze of lust to remember that Edward was a virgin. This was his first time, and Roy was seven years his senior, not to mention his superior officer. While Edward wasn’t the type to be swayed by authority, there were still grounds for an imbalance of power, and Roy wanted to be sure this happened on Edward’s terms.

So even though it physically hurt him to say, “Fullmetal, stop,” he did it. And when Edward looked up with golden eyes darkened by want, it took even more willpower to continue, “You don’t have to do this.”

Edward tilted his head, his mouth torturously close to Roy’s dick, and scrunched his brows like Roy was _stupid_.

“I want to.”

He proceeded to tug Roy’s pants and boxers down to his mid-thighs in one motion. Roy’s dick was surrounded by a strong, calloused hand a moment later, and any sense of responsibility Roy may have felt over Edward’s decision making ability abruptly vanished.

Edward’s hand felt good, but it was the intensely curious observation that undid Roy. Every time the pace or movement changed, Edward was staring at Roy’s reactions to catalogue them for later. He was treating Roy like the alchemy he loved so much – that he obsessed over – and it was intoxicating. Metal fingers trailed down Roy’s thigh as Edward leaned forward.

He held eye contact with Roy as he kissed the tip of Roy’s dick and then took the head into his mouth. Roy groaned and felt blood engorge his cock further, and Edward adjusted to the extra girth without missing a beat.

Edward started off with a slow bob, taking in Roy’s cock an extra inch every time he moved down. He was clearly testing the waters and seeing how much he could take, but his gaze never left Roy.

He didn’t manage to fit Roy’s entire dick in his mouth, but it was obvious when he found the amount he was comfortable throating because his tongue came into play. It was slow and cautious with that unwavering golden gaze still drinking in every reaction Roy could offer.

Then, just like with Edward’s piano playing, he took off. His speed increased dramatically while his tongue did Roy-didn’t-even-know-what, and a flesh hand curled round the base to stroke everywhere Edward’s mouth wasn’t. Roy’s back arched as his head fell onto the pillows.

“ _Edward_.”

Edward rewarded Roy’s vocalization with a hum and an extra deep dip, both of which had Roy moaning. He wondered for a second how long Edward could keep this up ( _blow jobs are a nightmare on the jaw_ ), and then his Core flared.

It flared and burned and rushed in a way that mimicked the white-hot pleasure of bonding, and Roy hardly knew he was cumming until he opened his eyes to see one hand furled in Edward’s hair, pressing on him until Edward’s nose was nestled in Roy’s pubes. By then, however, he was too far gone. He felt the tight coil in his stomach unfurl as the pleasure of his Core gained momentum, and Roy found release like never before.

It took a good few seconds after finishing for Roy to realize he was still holding Edward in place, and he quickly let go. Edward pulled back slowly, bobbing twice more before disconnecting from Roy’s dick with a soft _pop_.

Edward balanced on his automail forearm and massaged his jaw with his flesh hand.

“Not bad for a first time, I take it?”

Roy’s sigh was ¾ Satisfaction, ¼ Disbelief.

“The hell did you do to my Core?”

“I already told you. Fire Cores don’t just touch; they funnel into each other. Once you isolate the connection it’s pretty easy to manipulate.”

Part of Roy was interested to learn how he could better control his Core, but a much larger part wanted to focus on making Edward come undone seven ways to Sunday. So he twisted to grab Edward’s automail arm and pull the blonde into kissing range. Edward tasted like Roy, and Roy hummed as he flipped their positions much like Edward had done earlier.

Roy stood from the bed to yank off his shoes and pants. He immediately moved on to Edward’s combat boots ( _they were just as heavy as the ones Roy had worn in Ishval),_ and then Edward’s pants. As fantastic as Edward’s erection looked trapped in leather, it was magnificent when free. Edward’s cock had a natural tan that came with his Xerxecian ancestry, but it was clearly paler than the rest of his body. That comparative paleness was exacerbated by the way it laid across a bed of golden blonde pubes to stretch up toward Fullmetal’s belly.

Roy moved back to tug the tight cloth off of Edward’s toned calves only for Edward to say, “Mustang, wait” but it was too late. Roy wasn’t about to back off now that Edward was naked and hopelessly turned on in his bed.

Roy’s hand curled firmly around Edward’s dick, and he was able to stroke it only once before a string of cum painted both Roy’s hand and Edward’s chest.

Edward and Roy both stared at each other, though Edward’s blush was quickly darkening as the humiliation over his premature ejaculation sank in. Roy raised both brows as the pause turned pregnant, and Edward reached up, picked up a pillow, and hit Roy with it.

“Shut up!”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You were going to! And maybe you’ve done this half-a-million times, but it’s my first, so I can’t be expected to-to _last_.”

Edward managed to look even more embarrassed as he said the word ‘last,’ and Roy smiled at the naïvety of it all. Edward was embarrassed for cumming quickly, but all Roy could focus on was how hot it was for him to have gotten so turned on by sucking Roy’s dick.

“How about the second time?”

Before Edward could respond, Roy splayed his cum-covered hand on Edward’s abs and ducked to swallow Edward’s dick. He may not understand how to manipulate their Core energy flow, but he did know sex. He knew what it took to make a man writhe and beg to cum, and he knew exactly how far he could go without allowing that sought-after release.

So when Edward moaned seconds in, his eighteen-year-old stamina already picking back up, Roy knew it was because he was _good_. He waffled between slow and fast, deep-throating and focusing on the tip, and gentle pressure and suction. Roy glanced up at Edward to see what he preferred ( _suction on the deep throat, gentle pressure on the tip, and fast, though slow made him buck the most)_ and kept a hand on Edward’s thigh for the tell-tale tremors of a nearing orgasm.

Roy gathered some of the cum from Edward’s chest and used his upper body to spread Edward’s legs a little wider. Edward met Roy’s eyes as his finger circled Edward’s asshole, and the blonde tensed. Roy lifted his head, ready to ease Edward’s worries, only to be stunned into silence as Edward scowled.

“Why the hell do you get to top?”

Roy barked out a laugh, equally unable to believe that _this_ was the hesitation and feeling like he should have expected it.

“Fullmetal, I _promise_ you can fuck me one day, but I’d really rather you know what you’re doing first.”

Edward looked unsure, and Roy berated himself for not realizing that penetrating, much like leading in a dance, was about asserting independence, not actual want. Fullmetal didn’t ask because he necessarily wanted to top. He asked because he thought Roy would insist on dominance and, more importantly, assure him that Roy knew what he was doing.

He was nervous.

“Just don’t go all the way. Not… yet.”

Roy smiled and kissed the side of Edward’s dick.

“Of course.”

Roy went back to sucking and nibbling on Edward’s dick. His finger circled Edward’s asshole until the cum dried, and then he got more and did it again. The longer Roy toyed with Edward without penetrating him, the more relaxed he became.

Roy hadn’t been with a virgin in a long time – he was too old and they were too young – but he was experienced enough to know how to turn nervousness into pleasure. He repeated the process until there was no cum left, and then he left Edward’s cock to reach up to the bedside table for actual lube.

Edward tensed again, but Roy just swirled his finger around Edward’s asshole until all the tenseness left. Once he was sure Edward was completely relaxed, he simultaneously deep-throated Edward and gently pressed a finger inside. Edward shifted in discomfort before Roy dragged his tongue up the underside of Edward’s cock, and then he was bucking into Roy’s mouth.

Roy kept his hand still, using Edward’s instinctual thrusts to impale the blonde so that Edward would have control over how quickly he got used to the intrusion. After a few thrusts, Edward seemed to understand that, too. It was only once Edward was willing to fully seat himself on Roy’s finger that Roy started to move independently.

Roy made circles with his finger and pressed against every wall multiple times before removing his finger, re-lubing, and re-inserting two digits. This time, Edward’s discomfort only lasted a few seconds. Roy scissored a few times, but without the need to prep Edward for something larger, it wasn’t a priority.

Instead, Roy slowly pressed and hooked and searched until Edward inhaled a sharp gasp and _arched_. That was when Roy started moving again. Really moving.

He bobbed his head in time with his thrusts, and Edward breathed out, “Oh _fuck_.”

Edward’s body was just as stunning when reacting on instinct as when under control, and when Edward’s thighs started to tremble, Roy took a moment to appreciate how lucky he was. Then he removed his fingers from Edward’s ass to instead grasp his cock, and his lips moved from the hard flesh of Edward’s dick to the hard flesh of Edward’s visible nipple.

Edward’s cum splashing up his chest a second time and the reverent “Mustang” that came with it made Roy feel like he might have lived just for this moment. His throbbing erection, however, felt otherwise, and Roy raised himself to his knees before stroking himself with the same cum-slickened hand that had gotten Edward off.

Edward was content to watch, just as keen on taking in every detail as he had been with his lips locked around Roy’s dick. Golden eyes were dark with lust and lidded by pleasure while blonde strands of hair freed themselves from Edward’s braid to halo around his head. Edward’s automail clashed exotically with his tan skin, and Roy’s eyes were drawn downwards once more: over perfect abs to Edward’s half-hard cock against a bed of golden curls.

When Roy came, he did it on Edward.

As soon as Roy finished squeezing himself dry, Edward yanked him down for another kiss. Roy threaded his hand into Edward’s hair and drank in his bond-mate’s kisses in an attempt to avoid the dreaded three-word confession filling his chest. Luckily, Edward kissed like it was their first, last, and every kiss in between, making it hard to focus on much else.

Edward’s hand rose to intertwine with the hand stationed in his hair, and once flesh met flesh, Edward broke their kiss.

“Fucking seriously, Mustang?”

“What?”

“You got jizz in my hair! Do you have any idea how hard it’ll be to wash this out if it dries?”

Roy couldn’t help but smile as he said, “Yes.”

Edward rolled his eyes.

“Get off. I need to shower.”

Roy stopped holding himself up, instead placing his full body weight on Fullmetal in some silly form of protest. Fullmetal, in response, effortlessly rolled Roy off of him. His strength and the work that must have gone into cultivating it once again had Roy’s feelings fluttering, and Roy violently pushed them back down.

Roy assumed that would be the end of their interactions until Edward finished his shower, but Fullmetal stopped outside the bathroom door to turn back to Roy.

“Does this make me easy?”

Roy guffawed.

“Fullmetal, if this is you being easy, I would hate to see you playing hard to get.”

Edward scowled but apparently considered the answer good enough and continued on his quest for the shower. It was only after the water was running that Fullmetal poked his head back out, mismatched hands working to undo his messy braid.

“You coming or what?”

 


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Bradley didn’t dislike Edward Elric. He disliked incomplete mission reports. He disliked messiness. He disliked ingratitude. He _disliked_ cold coffee. What he felt for Edward Elric extended far past simple dislike.

Bradley had tried to be genial about it. He offered a quick and easy death via bullet and was kind enough to throw in a promotion so that Elric could die with some dignity. But no. All Elric wanted was to be the continuous thorn in Bradley’s side.

Maybe Bradley could have kept his grace about him had Mustang been able to keep a tighter hold on Elric’s leash, but the Colonel couldn’t be trusted to do even that much. That made it Bradley’s _obligation_ to settle this nonsense himself, and Elric was no longer deserving of something as kind as a bullet.

 _“_ I would first like to address the unrest which has arisen in response to Lt. Colonel Elric’s speech yesterday. I understand the confusion and anger you all must feel, and I apologize for that. I should have seen this coming and prevented it, but I did not.

 _“_ You see, I was well-aware of what the Lt. Colonel thinks of me. I just also thought it best to let him have that emotional outlet. In times like these, we often need someone to blame: a place to direct our anger so that we don’t drown in the despair. He assigned me to be that outlet, and I allowed it.

 _“_ As much as I’m not behind the chimera attacks – I can’t even perform alchemy – I don’t want anyone to retain harsh feelings for Elric’s assumptions. He has done _so much_ for this country, and at such a young age, too. We’ve all seen the recent studies outlining the damage exposure to violence can have on a child’s psyche. After two years of peace, it’s no wonder a chimera sighting in Central is stirring up paranoia.

 _“_ He came to the wrong conclusion, yes, but what we should take from it is that he’s _trying_ . He wants to protect us, and he thinks this is the best way to do it. He, much like the rest of us, is looking for a way to end the terrifying dilemma plaguing our beloved city. He is scared, _much like the rest of us_ , by the lack of leads. Not to mention the way his recent bonding with Colonel Mustang must be influencing him.”

Bradley paused so the cameras could catch his sad, sympathetic smile.

 _“_ We’ve all been in love before. The need to please that beloved person can be overwhelming, especially in times of crisis. I don’t doubt that Mustang had nothing to do with this horrendous accusation, but I also don’t doubt that Elric assumed shining a bad light on me would help to shine a good light on him. And to make a loved one happy—wouldn’t we all go to extreme lengths for that particular brand of success?

 _“_ There have been whispers of Elric being treasonous, but that isn’t the case. His speech was not a rally for rioting but a cry for help. A boy barely old enough to be considered a man has lost his family, become suddenly bonded to a superior officer, and feels he must protect an entire city without the pause necessary to resolve his own issues.

"What Elric needs is not our condemnation, but our help. I agree with him that these are dangerous times, but we should not respond by placing blame. Let us take from Elric the advice which all communities should strive to implement and _band_ _together!_ Identifying the wrong source does not make him someone to disregard.”

Bradley leaned forward to relay his passion, and the crowd responded with cheers of encouragement, love, and faith. They respected his empathy. They applauded his understanding. They belonged to him. Elric’s mistake was in assuming that Bradley was just the Führer. He was more than an elected leader. He was a God.

And this: _this_ was his flock.

 _“_ I am here to assure you that my investment in this chimera situation is not a passing fancy. I will be _personally_ heading the investigation from hereon out. And I assure you that your safety and the continuation of Central’s prosperity is and has always been my top priority.

 _“_ More than being citizens of Central or the people of Amestris, you are _my_ people, and that makes it my duty to do what’s best for you. For the sake of my country, I will make the ultimate sacrifice and become the ultimate power. I will put more than my heart into the cultivation of this great country.

 _“_ I offer my very _soul_.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

The Fullmetal Alchemist didn’t care about his reputation. Not only did he not care, he was so focused on not caring that there was room for little else. Roy knew because he had been trying to talk to the Fullmetal Alchemist about the issues his speech was already causing, and the bull-headed Fullmetal Fucking Alchemist _didn’t care_.

It looked like being in love with Fullmetal didn’t make him any less irritating.

 _“_ You do realize that you now have the credibility of a child, right? An emotionally vulnerable, easily manipulated child, at that.”

 _“_ Yep.”

 _“_ And you also realize how helpful it was to have the credibility of the Alchemist of the People on our side, yes?”

 _“_ Sure do.”

 _“_ Then tell me, Fullmetal, how can you be so blasé about all of this?”

 _“_ Because it doesn’t matter. I don’t care, and you shouldn’t either.”

 _“_ Oh, I shouldn’t? Here I was, under the impression that me bonding myself to an emotionally vulnerable, easily manipulated child might have some sort of negative impact on my reputation. But I guess I was wrong. Thanks for clearing that up.”

 _“_ No problem.”

Roy cut himself off mid-growl as he realized Fullmetal wasn’t being caustic. His tone wasn’t biting or obnoxious. It was almost bland.

Roy leaned over Fullmetal’s shoulder to look at the array he was working on, and when Fullmetal failed to move in either accommodation or rejection, he realized that he may as well have been talking to himself for the past who-knew-how-long.

 _“_ Damn it, Fullmetal.”

Roy backhanded Fullmetal’s bicep, causing the blonde to finally raise his eyes to Roy.

 _“_ What?”

 _“_ Have you heard a single word I said?”

Golden eyes narrowed in a glare while frustratingly kissable lips curled in a sneer. Then Fullmetal’s fighting posture melted as he admitted, “Not a word.”

Roy heaved a sigh as he tried and failed to be angry. As much as Fullmetal’s obliviousness was irritating, he wasn’t ignoring Roy on purpose. In fact, Roy wouldn’t be surprised if Fullmetal hadn’t realized he was here at all before being hit.

 _“_ I was just-- we don’t look good right now, Fullmetal.”

 _“_ How’s that?”

 _“_ The Führer King has made you sound like a delusional child with no credibility and me sound like a pedophile who’s taking advantage of your vulnerability.”

 _“_ Oh. Is that all?”

 _“_ _Edward_.”

 _“_ C’mon, Mustang. You’ve been going on about this ever since Brad’s stupid speech, and I don’t care any more now than I did then. Can’t you just let me off the hook already?”

 _“_ No. I can’t. It’s my job to get it through your head that you can’t keep pulling stunts like this and pretending there are no consequences.”

 _“_ Didn’t we already argue over this?”

 _“_ Yes.”

 _“_ Then isn’t it over already?”

 _“_ No. _No_ , it is not over. We, as this whatever-we-are, have worked through your speech and my anger over your speech. That doesn’t mean the rest of the world feels the same.”

 _“_ Who cares about them?”

 _“_ I do! _I_ care. My reputation cares. My career cares. Our ability to implement procedures cares. Without the intact reputation of the Alchemist of the People, everything gets infinitely harder for us and infinitely easier for the Führer. Because if you’re seen as an emotionally vulnerable child then when you get into a dangerous situation – which you _constantly_ do – people stop expecting you to come back.”

Fullmetal’s purposefully obnoxious stare blinked blank for a second and a half before he changed the topic.

 _“_ What time is it?”

Roy rolled his eyes and glanced at the clock.

 _“_ Almost six.”

Fullmetal hummed and turned back to his sketch. Roy decided to accept the distraction _(for now)_ if only to pave an easier road for their next few hours together.

So instead of continuing to berate his bond mate, Roy asked, “Have you decided where we’re going tonight or is that on me?”

When Fullmetal looked up again, it was in confusion.

 _“_ We’re not going anywhere.”

Which made it Roy’s turn to look dumbfounded.

 _“_ You said we had a date tonight.”

 _“_ No. I said _I_ have a date tonight. It’s not my fault you assumed it was with you.”

Jealousy and disbelief made an ugly beast, and it snarled inside of Roy.

 _“_ If not with me, then whom?”

 _“_ Sorry. I don’t kiss and tell.”

The response was just snide enough to be considered obnoxious, and Roy was saved the trouble of ripping away Fullmetal’s notebook for a full-on interrogation by the lock clicking undone and Winry entering the house. Her hair was down, her overalls were replaced with a blouse and miniskirt ( _though a wrench was still holstered at her hip),_ and a tasteful amount of makeup highlighted her eyes.

Roy’s jealous anger was instantly soothed.

 _“_ Your date is with Winry?”

 _“_ What can I say, Mustang? Maybe I’m really into blondes, too.”

Edward closed his book with a soft _clap_ and stood. He proceeded to ignore Roy in favor of observing Winry. Instead of starting off with how stunning she looked, he said, “The hell are you wearing?”

Part of Roy balked at the lack of finesse while another, larger part thanked the Gate that Edward was as blunt and tactless as a battering ram.

Winry scowled.

 _“_ I look hot, you jerk!”

Fullmetal scowled back.

 _“_ I mean, ish. I guess if you weren’t, you know, _you_ then you could look hot.”

 _“_ Al thinks I looks hot.”

 _“_ Al doesn't know how fucking uncomfortable miniskirts are.”

Winry scoffed while Roy’s thoughts stuttered to a halt before whirlwinding with images of Fullmetal in a miniskirt. That was when he decided to re-enter their conversation.

 _“_ When you say you know how uncomfortable they are, I assume you mean Winry told you?”

Winry barked out a laugh.

 _“_ He wishes.”

 _“_ Then _you’ve…_ ”

Fullmetal’s brows scrunched like he wasn’t sure what this had to do with anything, but he answered anyways.

 _“_ Yeah. Back when I was thirteen or maybe fourteen I had this mission in Pendleton over a slave trading ring, and the only people who could get inside their HQ to check it out were the guys in charge and pretty girls. I figured infiltrating would be easier than going in blind, so I dressed up.”

 _“_ And they just didn’t notice your automail?”

 _“_ I played the schoolgirl card. The high-stockings covered my leg, and the blaser and gloves covered my arm. My hair’s long enough to be a chick’s, and with a little makeup, I was just another girl for them to sell. Easy in, easy out.” Fullmetal turned back to Winry with a judgmental frown, “Super fucking uncomfortable though. You can’t fight or run in them for shit.”

Winry rolled her eyes.

 _“_ He makes it sound all heroic, but I think he just wanted to try on a skirt.”

 _“_ You’re just jealous because I look better in one than you do.”

 _“_ Yeah right. You’ve got thighs like tree trunks!”

 _“_ Amazing tree trunks.”

Roy opened his mouth only for Fullmetal to prematurely react to Roy’s yet-to-be-voiced opinion by pressing his notebook against Roy’s chest with more force than necessary.

 _“_ And before you make some smart-ass comment about my masculinity, fuck you. I look great in a dress.”

Roy would bet he did.

Edward proceeded to stalk over to Winry and say, “So, you ready?”

She nodded amicably and re-opened the door. Roy spoke up before they could leave.

 _“_ Any chance you still have that outfit?”

Edward flipped up his middle finger and left, but Roy was content to trade their date for this information. The thought of Edward, who oozed masculinity and strength, grinding on Roy in a dress that accented his broad shoulders, trim waist and the obscenity of his erection was very high on Roy’s list of fantasies. Whether the blonde realized it or not, the knowledge that Edward was already confident enough to wear women’s clothes opened up a lot of doors for their sex life.

And if the answer were “not,” Roy would love to fix that.

**(***Intertwined***)**

_“_ Why do I have to pay for this?”

 _“_ Because you used up half my stock when you broke your last arm.”

 _“_ So? I bought that stuff, too.”

 _“_ Yeah. Because it’s for you.”

 _“_ Is this stuff for me?”

 _“_ Even more important. It’s for _me_.”

Ed scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest as she reached into his cloak for his wallet. It was during this interaction that Winry started to think maybe things were going to be okay.

Ed had been acting odd around her ever since the stupid promotional ceremony, and she knew why. He was always blaming himself for things he couldn’t help and taking on responsibilities that weren’t his. And now, finally, he was starting to argue again.

Most people didn’t like when Ed argued with them. He was angry and bull-headed and infuriatingly smart in the worst of ways. He was damn-near impossible to win an argument against even on his worst days, and the wins usually felt like losses.

The thing to know about Ed was that he was only rough on the outside. Inside he was just as soft and kind and sweet and emotional as Al. The problem was that when he showed all that gooey sweetness, things were going wrong.

If Ed were arguing, things weren’t going wrong.

 _“_ Is there even room at Maes’ place for all this?”

 _“_ He has a garage. And unlike _some people_ I know, he’s selfless enough to let me use it.”

 _“_ Maybe I just don’t like all this useless junk cluttering up my space.”

 _“_ It’s not useless junk.”

 _“_ You’ve already got two of every wrench in existence. You don’t need another set. And how many bras can you possibly buy? You can only wear one at a time.”

 _“_ Ugh. You’re such a guy! I need different bras for different occasions and to match my outfits.”

 _“_ Why the hell do they need to match your clothes? No one can see them.”

Winry sniffed haughtily.

 _“_ _Al_ likes them.”

 _“_ Al would like you in a burlap sack. Or _overalls_.”

Ed’s voice took on an obnoxious tone that made Winry relax even more.

 _“_ And for that comment, you can buy me dinner, too.”

 _“_ Was not buying you dinner ever an option?”

 _“_ Nope.”

Winry returned Ed’s unamused stare with a sweet smile.

 _“_ Didn’t think so. Where are we eating?”

 _“_ There’s a burger joint down the road. I hear they have great shakes.”

 _“_ Sweet. Mustang never keeps ice cream at home.”

They both froze.

 _“_ Home?”

 _“_ The house.”

Winry tried to catch Ed’s eyes, but he kept his attention firmly on the passing shops. She swallowed around the lump in her throat as she processed his slip-up. Ed, for all his traveling and all the places he’d stayed, had never once called any of them home. Even Granny’s house ( _Winry’s and Al’s home now_ ) was never home to him.

They entered the diner, and Ed immediately focused his attention on the menu. Winry waited all of five seconds to push his menu to the table.

 _“_ You called it home.”

 _“_ I didn’t mean to.”

 _“_ But you did!”

 _“_ But I didn’t mean to! That place isn’t my—I don’t have a home.”

Winry’s heart ached as she said, “You could though.”

 _“_ Leave it, Win.”

 _“_ You really care about him, don’t you?”

 _“_ I said leave it.”

 _“_ No. I’ve never seen you like this before. It’s-it’s _good_ , Ed.”

 _“_ I’m not _like_ anything. It was a slip of the tongue. Mustang and I aren’t… We aren’t even together.”

 _“_ You’re not?”

Ed leaned back with arrogant triumph in his posture.

 _“_ Nope.”

Winry hated that Ed was a terrible liar because she couldn’t pretend he was lying. It wasn’t just that she was pissed at herself for thinking there was some magic stirring between Ed and Mustang when there wasn’t, either. She wanted Ed to have someone for himself. She wanted him to have someone to hold and to turn to in times of need, and she wanted that _now_.

Because the times of need kept getting bigger and closer, and Winry was terrified of what would happen if they came down on Ed alone.

 _“_ Oh.”

 _“_ Yeah. _Oh_.”

 _“_ Well, you’d tell me if you guys do start going out, right?”

Ed’s brows raised to his hairline as he shrugged.

 _“_ I guess. Why’s it matter?”

 _“_ Because… Because you always used to ask Granny to take care of us. Now I’m going to be the one to take care of Al when you go off on your missions, and he’s going to take care of me. And maybe you don’t care, but I’d sure as hell like knowing someone’s going to be there to take care of you, too.”

Ed’s response was to crack a roguish grin, and he was _handsome_.

There was Al’s handsome, which was sweet and well-presented and charming, and there was Ed’s _handsome_ , which was strong and dependable and heroic.

Winry loved Ed as more than a brother. She loved him as a hero. He was the one who protected her from bullies and sent Granny checks so they could keep their home. He was the one who treated her as an equal when all the other kids cast her out for being different ( _or in Al’s case held her closer for love-at-first-sight_ ). He could go up against anything and everything and come back intact.

And that was why when Ed said, “I’ll be fine. I always am.” Winry believed him. Maybe not because she _should_ but because it was true. Ed was always fine. He always did scary things and always came back with amazing stories of triumphing over evil. Ed couldn’t die because heroes never die, and Ed, above all else, was a hero.

He would be fine.

He would be fine.

He would be _fine_.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Roy was tired. He could comfortably function on five hours of sleep most days, but five hours of sleep followed by a night of touching Edward and then a day of dealing with Fullmetal left him tired. So instead of going to bed at two in the morning, Roy turned in at ten.

He woke up when he heard his bedroom door creak open, but as much as he loved touching his bond mate, he was _tired_. His eyelids were heavy, and he knew the day ahead would be grueling. So instead of reacting to Fullmetal’s presence, he stayed still.

Fullmetal entered the room and crawled onto the bed but not under the covers. He didn’t touch Roy.

 _“_ You awake, Mustang?”

Fullmetal’s voice, usually loud and gruff, was barely above a whisper. Roy, who was about to turn over and open his eyes, stilled when Fullmetal continued, “If you are, you’d better fucking say so now because I’ve never really uh, talked about any of this before and I don’t want to talk to you if you can hear me.”

That, of course, convinced Roy to pretend he was sleeping. After a few minutes of non-response, Edward spoke again.

 _“_ I know what I’m doing, okay? You think I don’t know how to deal with having the reputation of a child or not being credible or people not expecting me to come back, but you’re wrong. Because I got into this life when I was twelve. My first mission was to track and kill a chimera and I hadn’t uh, I’d never even thrown a punch before.

 _“_ I didn’t think I was going to come back. Nobody who assigned me to that mission thought I was going to come back. And I was… scared. I was _so scared_.” Edward took a deep breath. “I’ve never said that before.”

He paused for what felt like too long before admitting, “I hate myself for saying it now. I don’t – I don’t _deserve_ to be scared. I almost _killed_ my little brother. I almost killed… killed the kindest, sweetest, most amazing person on the planet. I don’t get to be forgiven for that. _I don’t get to be scared_.”

Edward sniffed in a way that Roy knew he was either crying or trying not to cry, and Roy did his best not to react.

 _“_ After a while, I stopped being scared, but it wasn’t because I thought I had a better chance at living. It was because I realized that I should have died a long time ago. Every minute I live is a minute where I get to _attempt_ to make up for my mistakes. Al though, he has everything to live for. He’s always had everything to live for. He deserves it. And if I died then he’d get a stipend to live off of until he graduated. Equivalent exchange.

 _“_ And that was fine because I didn’t have a future. I didn’t have friends or a home or a bond mate. There was nothing to look forward to, so there was nothing to lose. And now I’m starting to-to think- to th-think that-”

Roy could _hear_ Edward’s breath shake as he tried to pull himself together.

 _“_ God damn it. I’m starting to think that I might have a… if not a future than a chance at one. Like I could keep sparring with Greeling and theorizing with Al and having dinner at Namae’s and, and like we could see where this whatever-it-is can go. I deserve to be shot just for thinking about having a-a _future_ after all that I’ve done, but that’s exactly what I’m doing.

 _“_ Because I’ve never wanted to die, but I’ve never really uh, wanted to live, either. Never thought I was allowed. But now… now I’m scared again.” Edward’s humorless laugh bordered on tragic. “It feels like I’m damning myself just by admitting it, even if you aren’t really listening. And I’m about to damn myself further, but if I only get one chance to say it before I die, then I want to say it. And I want it to be to you.”

Edward’s shaky breaths quickened to something just below hyperventilating before he whispered, “ _Fuck_. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I can _say_ this. I can say it.”

Another deep breath.

_“ I_ _want to live.”_

And then Fullmetal was really crying. His sobs were choked back and his breaths came in harsh, quick pants, but Roy could feel the bed tremble beneath Edward’s sorrow just as he could feel the hot tears burning trails down his own cheeks.

Roy pretended to sleep.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed woke up to soft kisses along his jaw-line.

He opened his eyes to see Mustang’s stupidly handsome face leaning over him, and the butterflies that stupidly handsome face induced weren’t something Ed was proud of.

Mustang’s lips met Ed’s with a gentleness rivaled only by the way his hand caressed Ed’s face. Like Ed were something precious. It was foreign, and it lit nervous fireworks in his his chest. Ed initially thought that Mustang was over-compensating for Ed's late-night breakdown, but there was a distinct lack of damnation in onyx eyes.

Mustang must not have heard him then.

Ed threaded his fingers into soft black locks and tried to deepen the kiss, but Mustang wasn’t having it. He kept his kisses light and his caresses soft. He cradled Ed in an embrace made of all the warmth and protection Ed had yearned for as a child – that Ed still yearned for.

Mustang’s butterfly soft kisses trailed down Ed’s neck, but instead of continuing down his chest to his dick, they concentrated on the junction of Ed’s chest and automail. Gentle, caring fingers ghosted over the fresh scars on Ed’s chest before touching on the old ones.

The stab wounds, the burn marks, the teeth indents, the claws and the fingernails and the scrapes from all the people and events trying to drag him under: Mustang caressed them like they were gems instead of scars.

Flesh fingers intertwined with automail, which Ed couldn’t technically feel but somehow found infinitely more touching than flesh-on-flesh. Mustang’s other hand ghosted over Ed’s hip to reach the junction of flesh and automail on his thigh. He caressed the scarring with just enough pressure to be considered adoring, and the whatever-it-was that Ed felt for Mustang blossomed all over again at the feeling of being _cared for_.

Ed tried to reel them back in by distracting his apparent lover.

 _“_ Mustang! What’s gotten into you?”

Mustang responded by moving his kisses from the metal-flesh union down to the similar joining at Ed’s thigh. His hand let go of Ed’s to skim over the scar on Ed’s side while the grip previously on Ed’s thigh slid down his automail leg. As though it were real. As though Ed could feel it. As though Mustang found his automail just as attractive as his flesh.

 _“_ Mustang—”

Mustang flipped Ed onto his stomach with a painfully attractive amount of ease before continuing his treatment on the back of Ed’s thigh. The hand not on Ed’s automail leg started exploring the scars littering Ed’s flesh leg and upper thigh. Ed craned his neck to watch Mustang’s sweet, gentle exploration but otherwise felt inexplicably frozen.

Mustang barely touched Ed’s ass as he moved again, kissing a line from Ed’s lower back up to his automail shoulder. He put absolutely no weight on Ed, but he hovered close enough for Ed to feel his body heat. One warm hand caressed Ed from his automail leg up to his lower back before curving around Ed’s waist to bring him even closer.

Then the hand on his waist started exploring the scars on his back while the hand on his thigh moved back to Ed’s automail hand to re-twine their fingers. Mustang’s lips eventually left Ed’s automail to pepper the back of Ed’s neck with kisses. Those kisses trailed into Ed’s hair as Mustang moved his other hand to intertwine with Ed’s flesh fingers.

Once both hands were connected and Mustang’s body weightlessly blanketed Ed’s, Mustang pressed his lips to Ed’s temple. His breath was hot on the shell of Ed’s ear, and Mustang sounded more sensual than anyone had any right to be as he said, “Good morning, Fullmetal.”

Ed arched up against Mustang and was rewarded by Mustang finally allowing his formidable weight to press down on Ed. That weight – the sturdiness and strength – made Ed feel like he hadn’t slipped up when calling this place _home_.

 _“_ Morning.”

 _“_ I want to talk to you.”

 _“_ About?”

 _“_ About us. About this whatever-we-are.”

 _“_ I’m not dating you.”

Mustang smiled against Ed’s skin.

 _“_ Well I’m not dating anyone else. And I’m not saying we have to pick a label. I’m fine with us having a whatever-this-is. But I would like some guidelines.”

Ed groaned, already disliking where this was going.

 _“_ Guidelines?”

 _“_ Like how I can treat you in public and what I’m allowed to do in private. Can I kiss you in front of our friends? Do I have to ask before I kiss you? Can I crawl into bed with you if you fall asleep in the library? Am I allowed to buy you expensive books for no reason? How many times am I allowed to point out how attractive you are before you tell me to shut up? Is there any chance you’ll kiss me first any time soon?”

Ed huffed, half-tempted to ignore the questions just so he could avoid the self-searching and moving-forward that inevitably accompanied defining any part of their relationship.

 _“_ Hands off where people can see, and we’ll figure it out as we go everywhere else. In front of friends is okay, but don’t go overboard. No, you don’t have to ask. Yeah, but only if you don’t fuck up my system. And _yes_ , there’s a system. I don’t give a damn about how much money you’ve got, but it’s not like I’m going to turn down a nice book if you’re handing it to me. Zero times.” Ed hesitated. “Maybe once or twice, if you’re really feeling it and no one else is around. And yeah. There’s probably a pretty good chance I’ll initiate a kiss sometime soon.”

Before Mustang could respond, Ed made some more clarifications on his own.

 _“_ It doesn't have to just be you listening to me talking about alchemic theory.  I’m willing to listen to you talk about your political schemes and military problems and whatever.  I’m never going to cook, and I usually don’t know what day it is, so don’t bother setting an anniversary date. I won’t remember. I’m willing to tell you how ridiculously, _unfairly_ handsome you are when you aren’t being an ass, which I guess is right now, so there you go.

 _“_ I don’t love you – hell, I hardly even like you most of the time – and you can’t expect I’m going to love you any time soon. Or ever. I don’t know if I’m capable. And you don’t get to judge me for not being able to feel that way. You just don’t, okay?”

 _“_ Okay.”

Ed nodded. He didn’t know exactly how to feel about Mustang’s gentle, understanding acceptance, so he brushed it off as nothing and continued.

 _“_ I’m not going to start calling you Roy, either. You aren’t a Roy. You’re a Mustang.”

 _“_ Because of how rideable I am?”

Ed tried to elbow Mustang but the angle was wrong and he hit air.

 _“_ Because of how much of an ass you are. Roys are stay-at-home dads and gardeners and all-around nice guys. You’re Mustang. You’re a conniving son of a bitch who’s clawing his way up the social ladder with fake smiles, manipulative speeches, and expensive, meaningless gifts to influential people you hate. You’re a bastard, and that’s why you’re Mustang.”

Mustang hummed as he pressed his nose into the crook of Ed’s neck and snuggled closer.

 _“_ Correct me if I’m wrong, but you sound pretty fond of me.”

 _“_ I’m more fond of you when you aren’t talking.”

Mustang chuckled.

 _“_ What do you say we call in sick today? We could stay here, like this. No talking necessary.”

 _“_ We can’t. I’ve got to go to the park today for the volunteer sign-up thing.”

 _“_ School then. Skip class with me.”

 _“_ You aren’t smart enough to miss class.”

 _“_ Study with me then.”

 _“_ It’s hardly studying with you if I already know the material.”

 _“_ How about tutoring? You’d make a great tutor.”

 _“_ I’m a shitty tutor.” Ed closed his eyes as he accepted that he really didn’t want this doting version of Mustang to go away just yet and conceded, “But I could try.”

Ed felt Mustang’s lips stretch into a grin against his skin and turned his face into the pillow to hide his own smile.

 _“_ How kind.”

Ed’s grip on Mustang’s hands tightened.

 _“_ No talking, remember?”

Mustang hugged Ed more firmly but otherwise didn’t respond, and Ed turned to catch Mustang with a quick kiss. It was warm and soft and safe.

It felt like home.

 


	30. Chapter Thirty

Ed cracked his neck in hopes of relieving the crick that came with filling out forms all day.  He had expected a lot of people to want to help out with the self-defense lessons tomorrow, but the sheer number of volunteers was kind of astounding.  He was lucky Mustang had predicted this and sent his team over or Ed would have been screwed. 

Not that he’d ever tell Mustang as much, but still.

Now that the day was winding down, Ed could appreciate just how much fun it had been to work with Mustang’s unit.  They functioned like a well-oiled machine, barely needing a shout to figure out what was needed and where.  It certainly helped that all the laziness of the office disappeared when they stepped outside.

Well, as long as there was work to do, at least.

“Oh my god, that took forever!  Do me a favor, Fullmetal, and next time you want to organize something, give us some notice first.”

Ed grinned at Havoc, who had flopped onto the grass.

“I’ll try.”

Fuery waved a dismissive hand in Havoc’s direction.

“No need!  Did you see how many people volunteered?  I’ve organized events with months of notice and gotten less of a turnout!” 

“Yeah, well the notice isn’t for them.  It’s for _us_.”

Breda groaned as he sat down next to Havoc.  Ed scratched the back of his head.

“My bad, my bad.  I am seriously thankful though.  You guys are life savers.”

Falman leaned tiredly against a tree as he responded, “Without you here, we wouldn’t even have been able to talk to at least a dozen volunteers.  Just how many languages do you know?”

“Fluently?  Five.  Amestrian, Xerxecian, Latin, Aerugonian, and Xingese.  I’m learning Drachmanese, but not a lot of alchemic theories come from Drachma, so it’s not a priority.”

Ed shrugged because it didn’t matter while Breda laughed. 

“And here I thought I did well to learn how to curse in Xingese.”

Ed chuckled knowingly as he said, “Every time I learn a new language, I start with fuck.”

“A man after my own heart.”

Fuery cut in with an admiring, “I uh, I know Xingese since that’s the second most common language in Amestris, but my accent’s definitely not the best.  Think we could have a conversation some time?  For practice?”

Ed responded, **“My accent’s shit.”** in Xingese.

Fuery in turn replied, **“Better than mine.”** and Ed agreed. 

The grammar was spot-on, but it was overly-formal and he was butchering the enunciation. 

**“You know who you should talk with?  Al.  You could learn a lot from each other.”**

Ed’s grin gave away what he thought of Fuery’s accent even without Fuery being in on the joke. 

Breda interrupted their conversation with a barking laugh before saying, “Some of us don’t speak Xingese, so if you guys could Amestrian it up, we’d really appreciate it.”

  “He’s right.”  Falman nodded faux-sagely.  “Otherwise we’ll start assuming you’re talking about us.”

“Yeah?  Well, you’d assume right.  **Fucking bastards.** ”

Both Fuery and Breda laughed. 

Havoc moaned as he stretched out, uncaring of the conversation going on without him, and said, “Man, this is so _nice!_   Sitting here in the sunshine, hanging out with the guys, no Hawkeye to tell us to get back to work.”

“Speaking of Hawkeye,” Fuery’s tone turned teasing, “what’s with you and her lately?”

“What?  I, uh, nothing.”

“Oh, come on.  You guys have had this weird air around you for days now.”

Breda scoffed and intercepted with a sly, “You mean _Havoc’s_ had a weird air around him for days.  Hawkeye’s just fine.”

Ed raised impressed brows.  “You and Hawkeye?”

“What?  I-no!  _No_.  We’re not- it’s not like that.  I don’t, and she doesn’t, and you guys are stupid.”

Havoc lit another cigarette to punctuate what Ed guessed was supposed to be a defense.

Breda wasn’t deterred. 

“We’re stupid?  You’re the one crushing on Hawkeye!  She is so out of your league.”

“Well, don’t say that.”  Fuery’s teasing quickly became placating.  “She’s not out of his league.  She’s just, you know, _Hawkeye_.” 

Havoc frowned around his cigarette.

“I know who she is.”

“Then you know how crazy it is.”  Falman’s tone was sympathetic.  “Hawkeye doesn’t share a lot, but she’s pretty clear about how much she cares for her reputation.  She isn’t going to give that up for a date.  Especially not with someone she works with.”

The glances the other men sent to Falman and then to Havoc said they hadn’t intended for their teasing to turn real.  Breda tried to lighten the situation with a laugh.

“Got any advice for him Fullmetal?”

“I already gave him advice, and that was to ask her out.”

“Right.  So you got him into this mess.  It’s time you got him out.”

“Why’s it have to be me?”

“Who else?  You managed to get Mustang to stop sleeping around.  You’re practically a relationship guru.”

Ed scoffed.

“Wouldn’t call myself that.  Mustang and I aren’t even dating.”

Disbelief muddled the otherwise quiet air. 

“No way you and the boss man aren’t a thing!”

Ed grimaced.

“Well we are a… _thing_.  Just not a dating thing.”

“Are you exclusive?”

“He says he’s not dating anyone else.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know what I say.”

Fuery laughed.

“That’s a first.”

“Hey now.  I do alchemy, not relationships.”

Havoc puffed out a cloud of smoke.

“Life would be a hell of a lot easier if everything could be solved with alchemy.”

“Yeah.”  Fuery’s sigh was wistful.  “Well, if anyone can make a circle capable of solving relationship issues, it’s Fullmetal.”

Falman nodded.

“I second that notion.  He could create the perfect array and earn millions painting it anywhere and everywhere.”

Havoc groaned, “Sounds like a lot of work to me.  If he’s got an array that can solve any and all relationship fuck-ups, he should just put a big one right over Central.  Then anyone could use it right?”

Havoc looked at Ed for confirmation while Fuery asked whether the array would be able to help fix almost-relationships, too.  Ed barely heard it.

His peripheral vision blackened, his heartbeat sped up to an unreasonable pace, and Ed felt his entire world tilt. 

He was on his feet and racing towards Central Command before the world resettled.  He didn’t hear them shouting after him.  He didn’t check to see if they were following.  He just ran. 

His feet took him to Mustang’s office area and Falman’s desk as fast as they physically could, and he immediately found the map Falman had been working on.  His stomach churned as he picked up a pen and started connecting dots.

Why hadn’t he seen this before? 

“—al.  Fullmetal.  Edward, stop.  Stop!”

A hand on Ed’s arm jerked him away from the map and the half-finished array overlapping the red dots.

“What are you—” 

Mustang stopped as he finally saw what Ed was working on, and all the anxiety that had been building in Ed’s chest came out.

“ _God damn it._   I’m so fucking stupid!  Why didn’t I _see_ this?”

“Fullmetal, what exactly is this?”

“God fucking… _Fuck!”_

Mustang’s grip on his arm tightened to a painful extent, forcing Ed’s attention back to him. 

“Focus, Fullmetal.”

Ed looked past Mustang to see his unit, sweating and out of breath.  Worried.  They didn’t know.  No one knew.  Why hadn’t he _seen?_

“Hey!  Look at me.”  Mustang tugged on Ed again.  His voice lowered to a soothing whisper.  “I need you to focus, okay?  What is this?”

Mustang motioned to the map, which dragged Ed right back into his spiral.  Mustang’s hand on his face forced his attention back a third time, and once Ed finally, _finally_ met Mustang’s eyes, the fear broke free. 

His voice almost cracked as he said, “It’s an array.”

“I can see that, Fullmetal.”

“Can you?  Because I don’t think you can.  It’s an _array_.  These dots.  These crimes.  These murders.  They connect to make an array!  Do you understand?  There is an _array_ written in _blood_ covering Central, and _we’re in the middle of it!_  Do you see that?”

“Edward, I really need you to calm down, alright?  Calm down for me for just a couple of minutes, and tell me what this array is for.”

Ed pulled away, already hating himself for the wonderful morning he had spent with Mustang instead of figuring this out. 

“You don’t see it.”

Mustang’s calm persistence never wavered as he said, “Help me see it, Edward.”

Ed groaned as he took deep breaths to stop himself from hyperventilating.

“It’s for the stone.  The philosopher’s stone – the one that can perform alchemy without equivalent exchange.”

“Alright.  Good.  You’re doing good.  What does that mean for us?”

“The books, they… They all say the stone needs a soul.  Once the array’s done; once it’s activated, it’ll take it.”

“A soul?”

“No!  God fucking damn it, _no_.  Arrays like this don’t discriminate.  It only wants one specific soul, yes, but it’ll take- it’ll take...”

Ed clenched his hands to force them to stop shaking as he stared into Mustang’s eyes.  His terror and panic flatlined into numbness, and he swallowed around the fear of defeat as he put the truth out into the world.

“It’ll take them all.”

**(***Intertwined***)**

After Fullmetal’s breakthrough-bordering-on-breakdown, he pulled himself together.  He took over Falman’s job of marking every single incident The Führer may have had a hand in, and he did it at hyper speed.  Hours of flipping through records and marking the map, and he never complained.  He never even looked up. 

Mustang had assured them that this changed nothing.  They still had to stop the Führer, and they still had to do it ASAP.  All knowing the Führer's plan meant was that they could better prepare for it.

The way that Fullmetal sat in the middle of the office floor, surrounded by books, single-mindedly marking that map made Jean feel otherwise.  That was why they were still in the office – why they were _all_ still in the office – doing work that they had previously thought could wait until tomorrow.  They didn’t even need Hawkeye keeping them on track. 

It was nearing nine when a knock on the door and the smell of food broke through the quiet concentration of the room.  Jean glanced up before going back to his work.  He hadn’t ordered anything. 

Mustang answered the knock and paid.  He got seven take-out boxes, six of which he left on Fuery’s desk, and one of which he took to his office.  Everyone but Fullmetal got the message and went to get a box.  Jean leaned against Fuery’s desk while biting into his burger.

“Oh my god.  This is so good.”

The burger was incredible, which meant it cost way more than Jean usually spent on work dinners.  And that was technically a bad sign because any time Mustang tried to encourage them with subtleties, it was because things were worse than he wanted to say.  Not that he could make the possibility of everyone getting their souls sucked out _not bad_ , but he could certainly make it seem worse. 

“Wow!  It really is.”  Fuery spoke with his mouth full when he continued, “You think this is because Fullmetal’s here, too?”

Falman craned his neck to better look at Fullmetal before shaking his head.

“I don’t think so.  It doesn’t look like Fullmetal even realizes the food is here.”

“Should we tell him?”

Hawkeye shook her head.

“He wants to work.  Let him work.”

Despite saying that, Hawkeye picked up Fullmetal’s box and sat it beside of him when she finished eating.  Fullmetal either ignored it or didn’t notice.

Jean’s staring was interrupted by Breda gently nudging his shoulder.

“You’ve got to get this shit under control or she’s going to catch on.”

“I know.  I know, but it’s hard.  I mean, have you ever noticed how nice she is before?”

“Yeah.  I always notice how the sunlight hits her hair as she threatens to shoot me.”

Breda’s deadpan crumbled to laughter halfway through his sentence, and Jean quickly shushed him.

“Shut up!  She’ll hear you!”  Jean glanced back to make sure Hawkeye was still sitting obliviously at her desk.  “And it isn’t about how her hair looks.  It’s about how much she cares.  She puts in double the work of any of the rest of us, and not because she’s earning brownie points.  She just cares.”  Jean realized that he was mooning and covered it up with a cough and, “And I think it’s pretty cool.  That’s all.”

Fuery snorted. 

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Oh shut up!  Don’t any of you know how to be supportive?”

“Nope.”

“Sure don’t.”

“I do,” Falman smiled, “but if I’m supportive, you might start to think I care, and I don’t know if I can handle you looking at me like you do Hawkeye.”

Fuery and Breda immediately cracked up while Jean rolled his eyes and finished his food.

“Real nice, guys.”

He walked away from Fuery’s desk before they could heckle him again.  Luckily, that was the same moment Mustang left his office, and a single glance at the people still eating sent them scurrying back to their desks, too. 

Jean tried to be inconspicuous as he watched Mustang approach Fullmetal, but apparently ‘inconspicuous’ wasn’t his forte so he didn’t try too hard.  Mustang tapped on Fullmetal’s shoulder, and Fullmetal glanced up just to go back to his work again.

“What?”

“Did you eat?”

“I’ve been here the whole time, Mustang.  When would I have eaten?”

Mustang kicked the box of food closer to Fullmetal, who furrowed his brows and flipped open the lid.

“Huh.  Thanks, I guess.”

He went back to his map without touching the food.

“Fullmetal, you need to eat.”

“I will.”

“Soon.”

“Mhm.  Hey, you busy right now?”

“Busy is a relative term.  What do you need?”

“Information on the war.  I’m beginning to think there’s a circle drawn over Ishval, too.”

Mustang stilled, and everyone other than Fullmetal stilled with him.  Then Mustang raised a hand and gestured Hawkeye over.

“Hawkeye was in Ishval, too.  Just tell us what you want to know.”

“Thanks.”

Instead of moving the map into Mustang’s office, the Colonel set cross-legged on the floor.  Hawkeye followed suit. 

They talked and pointed and discussed for hours, and when they were done, only Hawkeye got up and returned to her desk.  Mustang kept trading information with Fullmetal while gesturing to the map. 

It was well-past midnight when Mustang stood and made the motion for everyone to wrap it up.  Jean sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes, thankful for the unexpectedly long work day to reach its end.

In the time it took Mustang to go back into his office and grab his coat, everyone else had packed and prepared to leave.  Mustang stopped by Fullmetal, who was still looking through records, and gently kicked him.

“Time to go home, Fullmetal.”

“Go ahead without me.”

“What?”

“I’d just be working on this there if I went, so I may as well stay here.”

“Do you need me to…?”

“Nah.  You’re tired.  Go sleep.”

“I’m fine.  If you need me to stay, I can stay.”

Fullmetal looked up at Mustang with his signature you’re-an-idiot expression.

“You know, you do this thing with your shoulders when you’re tired.  Like, you always have good posture, but when you get tired you stand extra tall and square your shoulders in hopes that no one will notice you’re about to fall asleep on your feet.”

Mustang frowned.

“Good night, Fullmetal.”

Fullmetal hummed noncommittally as he re-focused on the records in front of him, and Mustang turned to leave.  It was during that interaction that Jean realized Fullmetal had never touched his food.  Fullmetal, who was known to have a voracious appetite at the best of times, was going hungry. 

It made unease twist in Jean’s stomach.

That unease was what pressed Jean to walk to Hawkeye’s car instead of his own.  When she rolled down the window and raised expectant brows, it was the unease that made him tell the truth. 

Because if they were going to get their souls sucked out any day now, he didn’t have time to waste.

“Do you want to go out with me some time?”

“Excuse me?”

“Go out.  Like on a date.”  Jean hesitated and then clarified, “With me.”

“Why?”

“I just-- I want to date you.  Or if not date-date you then go on one date with you.  At least one date.  For the experience.  Not that you’re an experience to be had.  Or not-not that going out with you wouldn’t be an experience.  Just that you’re not _just_ an experience.  You’re more than that.”

“Did Breda put you up to this?”

“Breda?  What?  No!  This isn’t some prank.  I really want to take you on a date!  You know what?  It doesn’t even have to be in public.  We can have a secret date.  I won’t tell anyone, not even Breda.  And I tell him everything.  Well not, everything-everything, but you get it.”

Hawkeye, unfortunately, only managed to look amused.

“Do I?”

“Yes.  Yes, you do.  Because you’re Hawkeye, and you get everything.  Now could you just tell me if you want to go on a secret date with me?  Or a public date because you’re above caring about what others think.  Or a secret date because you work really hard for your reputation, and you deserve the respect that comes with it. 

“Or a public date because there are no such thing as leagues, which means you can’t be out of mine.  Or a secret date because you do believe in leagues which means you’re definitely out of mine.  Or a public date because you’re amazing and deserve someone who’s going to show off how amazing you are.  Or-or a secret date because… just because.” 

Jean finished lamely, and Hawkeye’s lips twisted in an amused smile that made Jean feel all kinds of rejected. 

“Good night, Havoc.”

“I, uh, yeah.  Night, Hawkeye.”

Jean stepped away so she could roll up her window and leave.  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. 

And then he was alone.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed could admit that he was kind of tired.  He hadn’t been getting fantastic amounts of sleep lately, and this all-nighter certainly hadn’t helped.  Luckily, when Mustang reappeared at 5:30 AM, he came with coffee.

The coffee was just the way Ed liked it ( _more sugar and cream than actual coffee_ ), and he nearly moaned before gulping half of it down in one go.

“Did you even take a nap?”

“No.  But I did finish.”

Ed grinned while Mustang crouched next to him and observed the red-dot and array covered map. 

After a long pause Mustang said, “The arrays are different.”

“Yeah.  They’re from two different books.  I think something must have went wrong in Ishval, so they’re trying a new one here.”

“New how?”

“The Ishval array is focused towards feeding souls into it.  Every time a person died after the array was completed, more than a life was lost.  I assume they just hoped the right soul would die and properly activate the circle.”

“Properly?”

“Every death technically activated it, siphoning the soul away, but without the right soul it couldn’t fulfill its purpose and create the stone.”

“Is it still active?”

“Huh?  No.  I mean, it was probably active for a while after the war ended, but that huge-ass earthquake five years ago would have cracked the connection.”

Mustang’s lips thinned as he stared at the array, and Ed could understand the nausea no doubt curling in Mustang's stomach.  Ed had been dealing with it himself all night.

“And the one over Central?”

“It’s more complicated.  It won’t activate until the right soul is in the circle, but when it does activate, it won’t be able to tell which soul the right one is.  So it’ll take them all.”

“And this ‘right soul,’ it’s…?”

“I don’t know.  It’s not like we have a way to differentiate souls from one another.  A quality soul versus a regular soul?  I don’t even know what that means.  And if it’s not a differentiation of souls themselves then it’s a differentiation made by the alchemist, in this case Brad.  We’ve got to figure out either what every other alchemist has been trying to decipher for the last thousand years or what that soulless bastard thinks makes a person special. So uh, yeah.  I don’t know.” 

Mustang placed an encouraging hand on Ed's shoulder as he stood, sending a wave of contentment through both their Cores. 

“You’re doing great, Fullmetal.”

Ed hummed, far from happy with their current progress. 

“When do you plan to head over to the park?”

“Soon.  I’m going to visit Namae’s place first.”

“Do you need a lift?”

“No.”

“Why are you going to Namae’s?”

“They deserve to know.”  Ed rolled up the map for travel.  “The timeline of the array’s creation; the reason for the battle Namae lost his brother in; the fact that the array stayed active for years after the fact: they just deserve to know.” 

Ed shrugged off the bitterness he felt curling around him and stood.  Mustang, in turn, dangled a set of keys in front of his face.

“Take my car.”

“What?”

“Namae lives miles from here, Edward.  Swallow your pride and drive.”

Ed scoffed.

“Do I look like I know how to drive?”

“Honestly?  At this point I just assume you know everything until proven otherwise.”

“Yeah, well this is me proving otherwise.”  Ed batted the keys away.  “Besides, I could use the run.  I prefer to do cardio before sparring.” 

Mustang pocketed his keys and leaned down to capture Ed’s lips in a sweet, chaste kiss that lasted nowhere near long enough.  By the time Ed blinked out of his Mustang-induced stupor, the Colonel was already halfway to his office.

“Hold up.  What was that for?”

“Because I can.”

On another day, the thought of Mustang wanting to kiss Ed just because he could may have caused his stomach to do a pleasant flip.  Today, however, he just wondered if Mustang wasn’t wasting his time.

Mustang appeared to have no such worries as he shut the door to his office.

It wasn’t that Ed still doubted Mustang’s awareness of their situation.  Mustang knew, and for whatever reason liked, Ed.  And if he wanted to waste his kisses on Ed ( _now that Ed consented_ ), that was his choice. 

So it wasn’t Ed’s place to feel guilty about whether or not Mustang would regret the way he spent his kisses later.  He knew Ed’s past, and he knew the likelihood of Ed’s future fatality.  If Ed died and Mustang regretted ever kissing him, it wasn't any of Ed's business.  And if he looked back, years from now, and wished he had spent his kisses on someone who could still be standing next to him, that was on Mustang.  Not Ed.

It wasn’t his fault, so he couldn’t feel guilty.

He _didn’t_ feel guilty.

Ed licked his lips and left.

**(***Intertwined***)**

To say Namae was surprised to find Edward at his door at seven in the morning would be an understatement.  He had agreed to help Edward teach self-defense today, yes, but he thought they’d be meeting at the park. 

“Can I come in?”

“Of course.”

Namae stepped aside, and Edward walked in.  He was sweating, and Namae glanced outside for his vehicle.

“Did you run here?”

“Call it a morning jog.”

Edward moved into the kitchen, leaving Namae trailing behind like he were the guest.  By the time Namae got to the kitchen, Edward was already spreading a map across the table.  It was covered in red dots and had two arrays drawn over the red. 

“Is Elaine up yet?”

“No.  She is not.  Should I wake her?”

“I…  No.  It’s fine.  I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Something…”  Namae examined the map more closely, his heart squeezing uncomfortably as he saw one of the arrays was positioned over his homeland.  “Something to do with Ishval?”

Edward nodded.

“The war was a sham.  The dots are events that the Führer orchestrated to happen during the war, and those events make this array.”

“You’re talking about blood alchemy.”

“I’m not talking about it.  I’m showing it.”

Edward motioned to the map again, and though his voice was steady, his body language was empathetic.  He didn’t press Namae to respond even when the silence stretched unreasonably far.

Despite not ordering his lips to move, Namae heard his own voice saying, “What does it do?”

“It takes souls and exchanges them for a philosopher’s stone.  I mean, it only needs one particular soul, but it’s designed to take them all until it gets what it needs.”

Namae stared unseeingly at the array – at Ishval; at his home – until Edward’s hand placed itself comfortingly on his upper back.

“You’re saying that all of these lives… over a _stone?”_

Edward breathed out a quiet, “Yeah.”

“And their souls?  Where do they, uh,” Namae choked on his own breath, “go?”

“I don’t—”

“Where do you _think_ they go?”

Edward pursed his lips and turned his eyes to the ceiling, clearly unhappy with the question.

“You’re the religious one—”

“My religion doesn’t say anything about alchemy that steals souls.  Please, Edward.”

Edward huffed, scratched the back of his neck, and turned his gaze back to Namae.

“Nowhere.  I think the Gate, it eats them, and instead of being reincarnated or put into another world or whatever else, they just disappear.  Gone.  I think it’s oblivion.”

Namae swallowed around the fearful lump in his throat to ask, “So my brother…?”

“No.  No, that’s the thing.  I made a timeline of the major events of Ishval’s Civil War.  Your brother died in the battle of Mideel, right?” 

“That is um, correct.  Yes.  Yes, he did.”

“Right.  Well the array wouldn’t have been finished until the Credo massacre, which was at least three months after Mideel.  So even though your brother died during the war, it’s impossible for him to have been caught up in this because the array wasn’t complete.  I don’t know where souls that don’t get caught in soul-eating arrays go, but that’s where your brother is.  And maybe you’d prefer not knowing any of this, but I couldn’t just not tell you.  It was your home.  Your life.”

Namae breathed deeply as he felt a new wind fill his lungs and seep into his veins.  It was as sweet and light as the air angels must breathe.  It was freeing. 

Golden eyes were compassionate as they watched Namae for a reaction.  Despite his keen observation, Ed seemed surprised when Namae pulled him into a hug. 

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry?”

Namae hugged him tighter before letting go and stepping back. 

“I think about the war all the time.  I think about it, and I become overwhelmed with hatred.  I am overwhelmed by the thought of my people being massacred.  It takes me to a dark place where I can’t think of anything other than the blood and the screams and the fire.  I can’t sleep.  I can’t breathe.  I can’t do anything but wander further into that darkness.  Last night was one of those times.  And now, here you are.  Telling me that there’s hope.”

“I’m not—”

“You _are_.  My brother died, but his soul is where it should be.  My people were slaughtered, but their deaths won’t be for naught.  What happened to Ishval foreshadows what’s about to happen to Central.  When the war destroyed my home, Central became my new home.  Do you understand?”

Edward’s confusion said he didn’t.

“It means we can _save my new home_.”

The way Edward’s expression morphed from confusion to happiness was beautiful. 

“Yeah.  I guess it does.”

 


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

“Why did you ask me out?”

Jean, who had been taking a break from instructing newbies on self-defense, looked confusedly to Hawkeye.

“Huh?”

“You asked me out.  Why?”

Jean coughed and fiddled with a pack of cigarettes before looking anywhere but at Hawkeye.  He had considered this matter settled when she turned him down in the parking lot, and bringing it up now, just yards away from dozens of strangers, felt a little like salt in the wounds.

He respected Hawkeye enough to answer her anyway.

“Oh, um, because you’re cool?  Erm, awesome, really. I like the way you don’t take flack from anyone and how hard you work.  Like, you can do _anything_.  It’s wild.  And super attractive.”

Jean lit a cigarette in hopes of covering his embarrassing second confession with false bravado.  Unfortunately, Hawkeye appeared even less impressed than usual.

“Not ‘why’ as in reasoning.  ‘Why’ as in ‘Why now?’”

Hawkeye mercilessly stared Jean down as she awaited a response, and he breathed in a lung full of nicotine as he tried to calm himself.  This was exactly why he never asked out anyone he knew. Hawkeye was powerful and strong-willed and lovely, and hearing her turn him down a second time was nothing less than humiliating.

That being said, he _respected_ her.  So he hesitated, glanced around, breathed in a quarter of his cigarette, and motioned for Hawkeye to come closer.

Once they were shoulder-to-shoulder and comfortably separated from everyone else, he said, “Because I don’t want to die regretting never kissing you.”  And then, realizing how arrogantly he was coming off, “Or at least trying. Not that my main goal is to kiss you because it isn’t. It’s not just a uh, a physical thing.  Which isn’t to say that I don’t want to kiss you. Of course I do. You’re beautiful.”

Jean sighed as he accepted he was only digging himself deeper and shut up.  After half a minute of silence, Hawkeye nodded.

“Fullmetal finished the geographical profile last night, and Mustang called me in early this morning to tell me about it.”

“Oh?”

“My house is in the middle of one of the target zones.”

“Oh.”

Extra worry and fear wound itself into Jean’s stomach as he thought of the surplus danger circling Hawkeye, and she headed off his anxiety with a simple, “So yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I’ll go on a secret date with you.”

Jean nearly choked on the remainder of his cigarette.

“Seriously?”

Hawkeye’s smile was small but magical.

“Seriously.”

“I don’t uh… not to risk turning a yes into a no, but why?”

“Maybe I don’t want to die regretting never letting you attempt to kiss me.”

She ended the conversation by walking away, which was for the best because Jean didn’t think there was anything he could say that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot.  Once he was sure she couldn’t see him anymore, he pumped his fist into the air.

He had a date with _Hawkeye!_

**(***Intertwined***)**

“I love him.”

“Oh?”

“More than loving his resilience or his strength or the way he scrunches his nose when he disagrees with something, I love _him_.  I’m in love with him.  And I can’t tell him because on the off chance he doesn’t run in the opposite direction, he’ll take my feelings as another reason to push himself even harder in an attempt to single-handedly protect everyone.  He’s already not sleeping.”

Instead of directly responding to any of Roy’s issues, Maes said, “I take it your Core stabilized?”

Roy frowned.

“I realized I loved him before it stabilized.”

“Yes, but you didn’t feel the need to tell me then, so something had to have changed.”

“This isn’t about my Core.  It’s about me having the urge to tell Edward I love him every time I see him, consequences be damned.”

“You’re sure this has nothing to do with the fact that you think he might leave now that your Core isn’t going to rip you apart without him?”

Maes kept his tone and expression gentle, but the apprehensive frown darkening Roy’s features said it didn’t help.

“He won’t leave.”

“No?”

Roy held Maes’ stare for half a minute before dropping his fearless facade and slumping into the chair in front of Maes’ desk.

“At least not before Monday.  Armstrong’s class ties us together until then.”

“That’s less than two days.”

“I’m aware.”

“But you aren’t going to tell him.”

“What am I supposed to say, exactly?  ‘I know I already forced you to live with me and bonded us without your consent, but I love you so don’t move out?’  Or how about: ‘I realize that you don’t like me enough to even call whatever-it-is we’re doing dating, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you?  Marry me?’ You can’t honestly believe that any of those options would end well for me.”

Despite the turmoil Roy was pouring directly from his heart into Maes’ ears, Maes smiled.

“You want to marry him?”

Roy rolled his eyes.

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“Well, do you?”

Roy offered a frustrated shrug.

“Maybe?  I want to do whatever makes him happy, and he’s equally likely to think that the government has no place in our relationship and that getting married would be the equivalent of him getting to choose his bond mate.  Either way I don’t intend to propose any time soon, so can we get back to the issues at hand?”

“What issues?  You’re in love, just like I’ve been saying for the past few months.  The only difference is that now you know it, too. And Ed may not be willing to call what you two are doing ‘dating,’ but that’s still what it is.  So don’t worry about him leaving.”

“You think I should ask him to move in with me?”

“I think you should talk to him about how you feel.  If nothing else, Ed is loyal. He won’t turn his back on you just because he isn’t ready to take the next step in your relationship.”

“If he thinks I expect him to tell me he loves me—”

“You don’t have to tell him you love him right now.  You just have to think about it. Take your time, and Ed will be there when you’re ready.  He isn’t going anywhere.”

Roy visibly relaxed.

“So when you say to talk about my feelings…?”

“I meant your feelings on him moving out.  Let him know that your home can be his home, too, if he wants it to be.”

Roy ran a hand through his hair and tossed a petulant glare at Maes, who waited patiently for the next complaint.

“This is so backwards.  I’m about to ask him to move in with me, and we haven’t even had sex yet.  Not that I want to wait for sex to ask because who the hell knows how long that’ll take.”

Roy made a flippant gesture with his hand, and Maes held back an amused smile.  As much as Roy wasn’t a gossip, he did like to talk about the simple, non-political, non-life threatening things whenever he got the chance.  Maes, luckily, was the one he chose to talk to.

“Part of me thinks it’s going to happen any day now because we can’t keep our hands off each other, and the rest of me is pretty sure we’re never going to do it because having sex would mean we’re _committed_ , and he would rather die.”

“He’s not well-versed in romantic relationships.  Just give him time.”

“He can have as much time as he wants.  I don’t _need_ to have sex with him.  It’s that every now and again he lets me get close enough that I realize just how rewarding sex with him would be.  He takes teasing to a whole new level without even realizing it. For instance, did you know he’s fine with cross-dressing?”

Maes blinked as his normally quick thoughts stuttered.

“Since when are you into cross-dressing?”

Roy shrugged dismissively.

“I’m not.  Though I’m also don’t have a uniform kink, and I have an entire list of things I would do to Fullmetal in uniform.  It’s almost like a ‘Fullmetal +’ kink.”

Maes laughed and held up his hands to stop Roy’s explanation where it stood.

“As much as I’m usually fine with hearing about your sex life, I can do without the mental image of you and Ed doing the deed.”

Roy’s brows rose incredulously.

“You think I listened to all your disgustingly romantic fantasies about Gracia just so you could refuse me once I’ve settled down and am ready to talk?”

“They aren’t disgustingly romantic.”

“What was your number one fantasy again?  Fucking her on a bed of roses?”

“Making love to her in a field of flowers.  And it was worthy of being my top fantasy because as amazing as she is in bed, she’s even more amazing surrounded by flowers under a sunset.”

Roy scoffed.

“Case and point.”

Maes hummed noncommittally before leaning back in his seat and motioning for Roy to continue.

“He’s going to be a spectacular lay.  Fullmetal has no clue what he’s doing, but he watches, and he _learns_.  He isn’t shy either.  Not that any part of his personality led me to believe he would be shy, but most virgins act like virgins.  He doesn’t. When he wants something, he just goes for it. And he isn’t afraid to improvise. He did this thing with our Cores where he funnels his energy through mine, and I swear I’ve never cum harder in my life.”

“I thought you haven’t had sex yet?”

“We’ve fooled around a few times.  All of which were initiated by him, by the way.  It’s actually kind of ridiculous how easily he can pull me into a kiss and the next thing I know I’m looking for a reasonable place to get off.  I haven’t gotten hard so fast since I was a teenager.”

Maes smiled indulgently.  He remembered the days where Gracia didn’t know what she was doing (though those days were long, _long_ gone).

“Oh, the joys of love.”

“You mean the joys of sex.  I wanted to fuck Fullmetal long before I loved him.”

“Just wait until you get him in bed and learn how to make love.  All of your frivolous sexual encounters will pale in comparison.”

“They already pale in comparison.  And maybe you should try rough, dirty sex every once in a while.  I know Gracia would appreciate it.”

Maes’ eyes narrowed as he tried to ascertain whether or not Roy was telling the truth.  Roy, in turn, schooled his expression into one of polite curiosity – as though he didn’t know just how much Maes wanted him to keep going.

Eventually, Maes’ cautiously said, “You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

“Why would she talk to you about something like that?”

“Because your idea of a dirty fantasy is making love in a field of flowers.  Don’t feel bad. You know love. I know sex. It’s nothing personal.”

Maes scowled as he weighed the likelihood of Gracia talking with Roy about sex against the downfall of not learning more about these conversations should they exist.  Roy’s expression remained neutral, but his eyes shone with mischief. That brought the real question down to whether or not Maes was willing to forgo having the information without first being positive it was false.

He wasn’t.

“What did she say?”

“She wants you to fuck her on your desk, among other places.  She wants to know you want her, even when you shouldn’t, and I think that’s fair considering how vanilla we all know you are.”

A blush dusted Maes’ face, and as he opened his mouth to respond, Roy continued, “She also wants the thrill of possibly getting caught.  Something like blowing you under the desk during a meeting or going at it in a supply closet.”

“Did she say why?”

“Because it’s hot?”  Roy shrugged. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s that you tell her how beautiful and perfect she is every day, and she wants to be sexy, too.  But that’s just speculation.” Roy dropped his polite facade to lean forward. “Do you think I need to tell Edward how attractive he is more often, or does almost fucking him in a train station get the point across well enough?”

Maes swatted the air dismissively.

“No, no.  You can’t bring up my gorgeous wife’s unfulfilled sexual desires and then expect me to listen to you rattle on about how well your sex life with Ed is going.”

“Lack of sex life.  We haven’t done it yet.”

“You will though.  And when you do, it’ll be great.  I know it. You know it. We all know it.  Can we get back to Gracia now?”

Roy huffed softly.

“She visits you sometimes wearing a low-cut yellow sundress and a hot pink bra with a little bow in the front.”

Maes’ brows raised, and Roy pursed his lips, unamused.

“You know the one.  It makes her breasts look great and hugs her curves just right.”

Maes nodded.

“I know the one.”

“Right.  Well, she asked me how to subtly seduce you, and that outfit was my advice.  If she visits you wearing that, she wants you to lock the door and take her over your desk.  Now, back to my problems.”

“What?   _No_.  Not back to your problems.  When did she tell you all this?”

“Last year, maybe?  And yes back to my problems.  I didn’t come here to talk about you and Gracia.”

“Last _year_ _?_  When did you plan on telling me?  And you and Ed are fine. He’s opening up to you.  Who cares if he wants to wait to have sex? At least it’s you he’s waiting to have sex with.”

Roy frowned but was clearly appeased by the reminder of Ed’s singular focus being on him.

“I distinctly remember you telling me not to meddle in your love life after that whole cherry debacle.”

“I meant that I didn’t want your advice.  Not that I didn’t want to know if my wife tells you her fantasies.”

“You should have been more specific then.”

Maes tried to muster up some anger to go with his disbelief, but his grin gave him away.

“Next time, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

Roy returned Maes’ grin before standing and alchemically ironing out the non-existent wrinkles in his uniform.

“You’ll let me know how things go with Gracia?”

“Of course.  Are you leaving?”

Roy nodded.

“I’ve got to get home.  I made sure Edward ate breakfast by telling Armstrong that he didn’t eat last night, but I’m sure he’s blowing off dinner again in favor of either studying or working out.  I’m thinking he might remember his ridiculously large appetite if I walk in with take-out from that Ishvalian restaurant on Main Street.”

“Good thinking.”

Roy’s parting gesture was a half-hearted wave, and Maes smiled as he watched the door close.  They didn’t get together and talk like this often – and it was repressed anxiety that brought this chat on – but Maes treasured it.  He treasured the way that Roy offered his whole self to their friendship, uncaring of embarrassment or shame.

Quite a few people throughout the years had questioned Maes’ attachment to Roy.  They called him manipulative and superficial, and they didn’t see how family-man Maes could possibly be friends with such a character.

They failed to see the way that Roy worked himself to the bone to protect his friends and better the people, and they completely missed the way Maes manipulated those around him on a daily basis.  Maes' job, almost by definition, required deceit. He just tended to smile and talk about his family enough for people to forget that little detail.

Maes was trustworthy, but that didn’t mean he should be trusted.

Roy knew that.  He knew, and he understood, and he still came to Maes to talk about the simple things like love and sex.  And _that_ was what people didn’t see.

Maes got the manipulation and the political intrigue and the in-progress-scheming, yes, but he also got the trust.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Tireless.

The word that popped into most people's heads when asked to describe Edward Elric was stubborn or rude or genius, but Roy knew better.  Edward was tireless.

Edward had spent all last night finishing a geographic profile, hardly slept the night before that (or the night before _that),_ and still found the energy to run a training camp teaching hundreds of people basic self defense techniques.  Not that he wasn’t tired, as that would be borderline impossible, but that he was _tireless_.  He pushed himself past his limits and worked harder than anyone Roy had ever seen – never once complaining or even expecting anyone to notice his efforts.

Even now he was doing one-handed push ups over a book written in… what?  Aerugonian? Roy walked past Fullmetal to place the food on the table before returning to the living room.  He then, positive that talking would have little to no effect, crouched and tugged on the messy bun of blonde hair.

Fullmetal moved his head to the side to look at Roy but didn’t pause his workout.

“What?”

“Come eat with me.”

“Come eat with—” Fullmetal’s face twisted to express angry incredulity and he stopped halfway through a push-up to focus on glaring at Roy.  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. After you told Armstrong that I hadn’t eaten, he took me to a diner and ordered every goddamn thing on the menu!  I spent _two hours_ listening to him tell me about having everything but passion in moderation and taking care of my immune system!  Like hell I’m eating with you.”

Roy blinked unapologetically and pulled at the band keeping Edward’s hair in place until golden eyes were covered by golden locks.  That forced Edward to choose between holding position and glaring at Roy. Edward dropped to the floor and pushed his hair out of his face to keep glaring, as Roy knew he would.

“It’s not just eating.  I also want you to explain the alchemy behind my gloves.  I don’t like depending on something I don’t understand.”

Roy went back to the kitchen without waiting for a response.  Not that the kitchen was far enough to miss the sting of rather creative curses, but still.  Edward, who couldn’t pass up a chance to explain complex alchemy to save his life, quickly joined Roy at the kitchen table. 

Despite apparently having helped Armstrong eat an entire menu, Edward was quick to pick a take-out container and dig in.

“What do you not understand?”

“For starters, the equation.  Why are there numbers in the array?”

“Every array is an equation.  I just put a secondary equation inside of the overall equation to set the parameters of need vs want which have to be met before activating the equation of the array itself.”

 _Just_.  

He “just” reinvented alchemy.  Roy withheld a scoff to instead say, “What purpose does the numerical equation serve?”

“It spells out the moment of decision in your Core.”

Roy cocked his brows, long past pretending he knew what he was talking about for the sake of impressing Edward.

“Moment of decision?”

“Yeah.  You know that moment where you’re about to perform alchemy but haven’t actually activated the array yet?  Your hands or fingers are hovering, you know what you want to do, the materials are rife with energy, ready to react, and the tension of the alchemy you’re about to perform tightens to the point where your Core and energy of the surrounding world practically mix.  It’s like bonding, but with everything. Becoming one with the world, just for a moment.”

Edward’s passion gave Roy goosebumps, and he suddenly craved the ability to feel the magical moment being described.  He took a sip of water to wash down the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Unfortunately, I can’t say I’ve ever experienced a moment like that.”

“Seriously?  It’s one of the best parts of alchemy.”

“If it’s anything close to the way you’re describing it, I’d say that’s probably true.”

Edward’s gaze turned searching, and Roy allowed himself to be searched.  He let Edward see the awe he felt over Edward’s mastery of alchemy and how much he wanted to feel the _moment_.  He exposed his gratitude over the opportunity to learn like this, in close quarters with Edward, and he opened himself up to show that while he did have to work harder to understand concepts like this, he was willing to do it.

When Edward finished his search, he licked his lips and leaned ever-so-slightly closer to Roy.

“I can show you.”

“How?”

“Our bond.  It connects our Cores to a near literal extent, and if you follow that thread of connection you should be able to feel what I’m doing.  I can hold us in that moment – not for long, but I can do it – and maybe you’ll be able to feel it, too.”

“I assume this is in the same realm as you manipulating our connection in bed?”

“Along the same lines, yeah.”

Roy frowned.

“Fullmetal, I don’t know how to do that, either.”

Edward held out his flesh hand.

“I can show you.”

Roy touched Edward for the first time since his Core stabilized, and it was unlike any time they’d touched before.  Instead of nothing, like before the bond, or adrenaline-fueled pleasure, like directly after the bond, it was contentment.  It was coming home and being free.

It was completion.

Fullmetal must have felt it too because he stared at their connected hands with an almost obsessive curiosity before turning his attention back to Roy.  His hand twisted to twine their fingers together, and Roy felt a tug on his Core that led to the sweet, hot perfection of being one with Edward.

He could feel the purity and the strength, and he could feel Edward’s Core like it were right in front of him.  Like it were pressed up against Roy’s Core, silently asking to meld together until there was no way to tell where one of them ended and the other began.  Roy’s breath hitched in his chest as he tried not to get lost in the flawlessness of their joining.

Edward’s smile was somehow more handsome than before, and it made Roy realize that he was ruined for anyone else.  

“Do you feel that?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”  Edward held up his free hand and snapped.  Roy felt an odd flush of power as familiar alchemy was performed by something his body just barely didn’t register as itself.  “And did you feel that?”

“I did.”

“Good.  Now focus on where you felt it.  Focus on my Core.”

And somehow, with Edward sitting right there, holding his hand through the process, it was easy.  He felt Edward’s Core as an extension of his own, and he recognized the burning center as the alchemic starter.  Edward prepped his hand to snap again, but he didn’t go through with it.

After a few seconds he said, “Do you feel that?”

“No.”

“That’s alright.  Take your time and relax.  It’s an instinctual thing. If you’re looking too hard, you’ll miss it.  Try focusing on where our Cores meet instead. The alchemy will happen. The moment is there.  Just trust it.”

Roy, wanting nothing more than to show his bond mate that he was _capable_ – that he could _do_ this – closed his eyes.  Watching Fullmetal be brilliant while offering Roy that devastatingly handsome smile filled Roy’s mind with an unnecessary, unwanted list of ways to say “I love you,’ and he needed to focus.

So he closed his eyes, and he waited.  As the minutes ticked by, he thought that maybe he was doomed to fail.  Maybe this moment of alchemy was like the math in the music, and it was meant just for Fullmetal.

Then it flickered.

Roy tensed, unsure he had actually felt anything, and Edward’s grip on his hand tightened.  More magically than that, he could feel Edward’s Core fluctuate with what he instinctively knew was encouragement.  Edward’s thumb swiped across the back of Roy’s hand, and Roy relaxed and waited to feel the flicker again.

It came twice more before Roy was able to catch the moment, and when he did—

It was _heaven_.  It was the entire universe, unfolding for Roy.  It was a connection to every single thing around him and the inherent knowledge of which oxygen molecules, exactly, were going to combust.  It was _feeling_ the outcome of snapping his fingers and _knowing_ exactly how much energy would be expended.  It was the energy of the world flowing through his Core, connecting him and betraying the fact that he had never been just a man, but a single cog in an infinitely complex machine.  It was the universe, and it was Roy, and there was no distinction between the two.

Then the _moment_ ended.

Roy sighed with boneless, toe-curling appreciation for a side of the world which previously (at least to his knowledge) hadn’t existed.  He felt Edward’s Core brighten excitedly.

“Now I know you felt that.”

Roy smiled lazily, unwilling to open his eyes just in case seeing Edward’s proud grin would short-circuit his ability not to confess.

“I did.  Though I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to feeling it again.”

Edward laughed, and Roy went back to waiting.

**(***Intertwined***)**

Ed didn’t quite know how he ended up back in Mustang’s bed.  He didn’t plan on it. It wasn’t his intention. He had wanted to teach Mustang some alchemy and go back to reading.

Then Mustang smiled at him.  It was a genuine smile that had everything to do with the thrill of alchemy and nothing to do with the fact that Ed was the one teaching him, but it still managed to make Ed’s heart flutter.  Then Ed leaned in to kiss him – _just one kiss_ – because Mustang was too handsome not to be kissed.  And when Mustang’s Core burned with an amazing mix of joy and pride and care, he couldn’t help himself.  He went back for just one more.

Mustang’s hand on his waist encouraged just one more after that, and when their chairs prevented them from getting closer, it was more of an obstacle to get over than a sign saying ‘stop.’  So there Ed was, practically sitting in Mustang’s lap at the kitchen table, and what? How did they get up to his bed?

They had been making out, and Mustang’s fingers dipped into the waistband of Ed’s pants but went no further.  Mustang was teasing, but that was it. Nothing serious. Just one very long, very intimate kiss. Then Mustang broke their kiss to rid himself of his shirt, and Shirtless Mustang did terrible things to Ed’s judgment.

Ed slipped his hand between them to feel Mustang’s abs, and Mustang responded by bodily picking Ed up and laying him out on the table, inches from their unfinished food.  A strong hand pushed Ed’s shirt up under his chin, and then Mustang’s unbelievably talented mouth focused all of its unbelievably talented attention on Ed’s nipple.

Ed arched into Mustang’s touch, and he felt those perfect lips grin around his nipple, and then?  Then he started thinking with his dick. He wrapped his legs around Mustang’s waist to pull the man closer, and when their cocks met he stopped pretending it was just one kiss.  Ed threaded his fingers into Mustang’s hair to yank the Colonel up for another kiss.

It was Mustang who broke their kiss to say, “Bedroom” and Ed who nodded.  They practically ran upstairs, Ed losing his shirt as Mustang pressed him against the wall of the stairway for another mind-blowing kiss, and that got them to Mustang’s bedroom. Mustang kicked off his shoes and undid his pants, and Ed was quick to follow suit and shed his sweatpants and boxers.

That was when Mustang picked him up and tossed him onto the bed like he weighed fucking _nothing_ , and Ed outright moaned.  It wasn’t just the display of strength and control, either.  It was the way Mustang’s cock stood upright against a background of black curls, drawing attention to both his abs and the musculature of his thighs.  It was the burn wound on his side and the scars across his body. It was mussed-up hair falling into obsidian eyes that looked at Ed like he was the only thing that mattered in the entire world.

It was Roy Mustang and how much Ed _wanted_ him.

Mustang positioned himself over Ed, ground their dicks together, and kissed Ed like he was the sole provider of oxygen, which brought them to the present.

Ed bucked up against Mustang, eager to feel more of that friction.  Mustang, in turn, balanced on his knees to free his hands for grabbing Ed’s hips.  He pressed them together and rolled his hips in a way that had Ed moaning into his mouth, which just made Mustang kiss him harder.

Ed snaked his flesh hand between them to get a hold of both of their dicks, and it was startling how much better masturbating was with Mustang there.  Mustang groaned into Ed’s mouth and disconnected their lips to kiss his way down to Ed’s neck. Ed tilted his head back to give Mustang more room and felt Mustang’s cock both thicken and harden in response.

Ed gripped them tighter and quickened his pace, unable to describe how much it turned him on to be the one who put Mustang in such a state.  Mustang thrust forward as his teeth nipped at Ed’s neck. Ed moaned lowly, all-too aware that he was going to cum first _again_ , and let go of their dicks to grab Mustang’s hair and bring the other man in for a bruising kiss.

Mustang, unfortunately, seemed unaware of Ed’s goal of not instantly cumming and freed a hand to pick up where Ed had left off.  And god damn if Mustang’s hand didn’t feel even better than his own. Ed bucked up as Mustang swiped a thumb across the tip of his dick, and his orgasm was just as powerful as it was quick.

Ed felt Mustang smirk against his lips – _the arrogant bastard_ – and Ed twined his fingers with Mustang’s around both their cocks with the intent of making Mustang come undone just as quickly.  What he didn’t anticipate was how fantastically sensitive his dick would be post-orgasm, and the combination of their hands filled Ed with a disorienting pleasure.  Ed’s automail hand found purchase on Mustang’s shoulder, allowing Mustang to move his lips to Ed’s ear.

“Do you hear yourself right now, Edward?”

Mustang’s lips wrapped around the shell of Ed’s ear, and Ed only half-heard the sounds of their hands squelching around their dicks through Mustang’s breathing.

“I’ve always wanted to hear you moan, but I never thought you would sounds so...”  Mustang’s teeth latched softly onto Ed’s earlobe as he groaned appreciatively and rocked his hips against Ed’s.

Ed instinctively copied the motion of Mustang’s hips, barely recognizing the soft whine of his own voice as he said Mustang’s name.  He meant to follow the call with a gruff “shut up,” but when Mustang’s dick pulsed in his hand and the Colonel lifted his head to show eyes full of want and care and desire and—

Ed abandoned their cocks to instead wrap his arms around Mustang’s neck and pull him _closer_.  As close as physically possible and then closer than that.  Mustang released Ed’s cock to focus on his own as he turned his attentions back to Ed’s neck.

Ed felt it when Mustang came.  He felt the powerful body above him shudder and the _warmth-safety-care_ of Mustang’s Core brighten until it consumed him.  And when he finally came down from the high of Mustang’s orgasm, he found he was still holding the older man tightly to him.  Ed loosened his grip but didn’t let go, and Mustang relaxed against him. The way Mustang sucked and nibbled at his neck faded into soft kisses.

Something pleasant bloomed in Ed’s chest – something contented and adoring – and he pulled Mustang closer still.

“Stay.”

Mustang hummed against his neck.

Ed cleared his throat and clarified, “I want to stay.  Here. In the library. I know Armstrong’s course only keeps me here until Monday, but I want to stay past that.  I can pay rent or whatever—”

Ed was interrupted by a cheery, disbelieving laugh and then lips pressed firmly against his own.

“Of course you can stay.”  Another kiss. “I _want_ you to stay.  In the library.  In my room. _Our_ room.  Whatever you want, I want to give it to you, and I want that all the more if it means you’ll stay.”

Ed paused, hesitant to believe it could all work out so easily.

“No deadlines?”

“We’re bonded, Fullmetal.  I’ll be yours for as long as you’ll have me.”  Mustang used one hand to motion vaguely to the space around them.  “The house, of course, comes with me.”

Ed’s voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “We’re not dating, you know.”

Mustang smiled, and it was a _beautiful_ thing.

“I know.”


End file.
